Accidents Happen
by FotoBridgeT2
Summary: An accidental one-night stand has unexpected consequences for Hotch and Emily--how do they deal with it? POst season three finale, and NOT part of my other series. FINISHED
1. Chapter 1

(Totally different and I don't know where it came from...and rest assured, I am working furiously on finishing HOPE and INTERIM and the other stories...I am interested in knowing what you all think...so please review)

He never meant to sleep with his subordinate. It was an accident. An aberration brought on by adrenaline and guilt. A moment out of time. It had just happened, and they'd both agreed it wouldn't, shouldn't, happen again.

They'd both felt comfortable with that decision. She knew enough about human behavior to understand how sex was an affirmation that they were both alive. Understood that he was feeling less of a man since the New York explosion, and that he'd needed a woman to conquer after such an horrific case. And the lack of a condom meant nothing, she was thirty-six years old and had had a few lapses in the past, nothing had happened then, so she wasn't too worried about now—that's what she had told him the next morning. It was just one time, an aberration that meant nothing. Just two people taking comfort from one another.

So nothing changed between them on the job, or anywhere else.

If his eyes happened to linger a little too long on her face, he didn't think she noticed. If he'd taken to walking directly beside her whenever the team was on the move she apparently paid it little thought. He'd started doing that before they'd slept together, so how had anything really changed? Because she made him feel comfortable with his newly acquired disability, if he could even call it that. He still had partial hearing, wasn't totally deafened by that explosion.

But he didn't have to prove himself with her, not the way a man intrinsically did with other men. So of all the team, she was the easiest for him to be around. She'd understood that.

She was even more conflicted with him, that's what he'd noticed. No accidental brushes against him, but she didn't hold herself away from him, either. She was still wary of him, but he suspected it was on a more sexual level than ever before. Before it had been a professional preservation, now it was personal.

And if he couldn't stop thinking about that night, about having her beneath him, around him, hot and ready, the problem was entirely his.

He watched her more. Knew his gaze was pulled in her direction much more than it ever had been. Before that night, she'd not been on his radar, not that way, anyway. She'd just been a member of his team. He'd deliberately held himself back from her, and had begun distancing himself from the rest of the team when Elle Greenaway had been shot. So _she'd _never had a chance with him. He knew she was ok with that, knew she hadn't truly liked him for at least the first year she'd been with the team. He understood that and he respected her for the way she'd handled the animosity between them. And they'd both been ok with things between them recently.

Until that night a month and a half ago.

If he was brutally honest with himself, he'd admit it. That night haunted him. Consumed him. Those big dark eyes looking at him with lust and longing were what he saw in his sleep every night. Dreams of that 

lean, perfect body he'd had curled against him for one glorious night was what woke him from his sleep every night. He wanted it again. And again.

But he wouldn't do that to her. She'd been there for him in his darkest moment and he would never do anything to jeopardize what made her happy. And the BAU made her happy. He wouldn't take that away from her. Never.

And a relationship between them, team leader and subordinate, could be potentially devastating for her. She'd bear the brunt of any fallout, gossip, snide remarks. Not him, it was never the man who suffered, even in today's modern times. The last thing he'd ever want to do was jeopardize Emily's happiness.

So when he realized what he did, the guilt flooded him. Because he wasn't the least bit unhappy about the results of that night. He'd been aware of the need for birth control, but the primitive part of him had screamed against it. So he hadn't. And he'd not given her time to object.

So there he sat, up in his office, alone and separated from his team, watching her from the window—a thirty-eight year old, divorced father of a three year old, with another child on the way. And _she _hadn't told him that last part. Not yet. And he was getting impatient.

It had been the coffee that tipped him off first. They'd been in Chicago two weeks prior. An officer had walked by, coming within two feet of where he'd stood between Emily and a very pregnant JJ. He'd not missed the way _both _women had turned a little green when the smell of the man's coffee had reached them. Emily had said nothing, just put one hand over her mouth, a surprised look widening those demon dark eyes of hers. Emily was never sick. Never, not even a head cold back in February when the rest of the team had been down with one.

JJ had laughed, teasing the older woman about sympathy pains. Emily had claimed it was bad Chinese. He'd watched her a little closer that day, just to make sure she wasn't coming down with something—even food poisoning. She was fine after that.

Then it had been a dizzy spell. They'd been in the briefing room, in that same Chicago precinct, and had stood to leave. She'd been one of the last ones out of the room, having been engaged in conversation with a flirtatious detective, and Hotch had waited for them to finish. He'd paired her off with him for interviews that day. He'd watched as she stood, then sat back down quickly, one hand going to her forehead.

He'd rushed to her side, one hand automatically going to rest on her back. She'd looked at him, then, with a slightly confused look in her eyes. Told him she'd skipped breakfast and was feeling light headed. He'd bought her a candy bar.

Then she'd been unusually tired. She'd drifted off less than five minutes after the plane had taken off for DC, her head falling softly on his shoulder. He'd sat beside her almost unconsciously, something he did a lot of as of lately. It was six o'clock in the evening and she was out. Completely. Emily was the team insomniac, and there she was sound asleep against him. It had taken every ounce of resistance he had to not wrap an arm around her and tuck her against his chest while he sat there talking to Dave.

He doubted Dave had missed his feelings. He knew they had to have been written all over his face for the older man to see. But Dave didn't comment on it, just lowered his voice, from his own seat next to the sleeping JJ.

Hotch wasn't blind to the apparent physical signs, either. Her body was curved, and he knew from first hand experience those curves were just in the right places. And he'd done enough studying of her body in the last six weeks to realize that some of those curves were changing. Her chest had gotten slightly bigger, and it wasn't from any weight gain.

She was more sensitive there, too. He'd seen the almost imperceptible gasp when he'd unconsciously brushed against her. At first he thought it was because of that night. Then he realized it was, but not in quite the way he'd first thought.

He was almost one hundred percent certain—Emily Prentiss was pregnant with his baby. What he wasn't certain of was whether _she _knew it. Yet. It was only a matter of time before she did.

What happened after that was anybody's guess. He knew what he wanted, but in reality, it was all up to her.


	2. Chapter 2

ACCIDENTS TWO:

Emily felt horrible. She'd woken up ill for the third morning in a row, so she knew it couldn't be bad Chinese. How likely was that? She had her suspicions but there was no way she was going to voice them aloud.

If what she thought was true, things were about to change drastically, for her, for _him, _for the BAU. Emily was never really all that comfortable with change.

Still, she couldn't find it within herself to regret it, any of it. She'd drawn as much comfort from him that night as he had her. And she'd definitely enjoyed it—all three times. Even the morning after hadn't been all that awkward. Of course, it hadn't been routine either. He'd started by apologizing, she'd told him it wasn't necessary. They'd both been well aware of what they were doing, they were both unattached adults. They could handle it. No big deal.

And then he'd reminded her about birth control. Or the lack there of. All three times. She'd told him they could deal with whatever happened. And they could, she didn't doubt that. And in her mind, at least, the odds of something happening weren't all that high.

She should have known her karma would be bad. The first one night stand in her life, her first office fling in her entire career, and she gets pregnant by the boss. Maybe. She hadn't confirmed it yet.

If she was, how in the hell was she going to tell him? And what would they tell the team?

It was official—Emily Prentiss was in deep shit. And wasn't getting out of it any time soon.

JJ caught her attention, signaling she'd identified yet another case for them, and Emily stood, wordlessly following the six months pregnant blonde. She wondered idly what JJ would say when she found out she wasn't the only pregnant one on the team.

If she was, that is.

Maybe she should call her doctor and make an appointment the instant this new case was over. Or at least find a drug store and take a test. Just to know one way or another.

HOTCHHOTCHHOTCHHOTCH

The pictures of the Louisville crime scenes were particularly gruesome. Hotch's own stomach turned seeing how the small families had been so ruthlessly slaughtered. He didn't miss the way Emily had had to look away, nor the way Derek had looked at the dark-headed woman surprised. He wondered if he shouldn't say something to her, flat out ask her if she was pregnant.

He'd have the right, every right in the world to know. "Wheels up in twenty, everybody. I want to catch this guy before he gets any further."

Everyone filed out, no one saying much. They never did when it involved children, and three had been killed in the last two days, along with their parents. Two families, seven people dead. It was never easy. Hotch grabbed her elbow as she walked by. He pulled her back, wordlessly indicating he wanted to speak with her. No one paid them no mind, they had gotten used to Hotch sticking close to Emily in the last few months, and they all understood it was because of the recent changes in his life.

They didn't know about that night with her. They'd never suspect, and Hotch both liked it that way and hated it that way. He liked that they'd been able to keep it out of the office, but the other part of him wanted to shout it to every man who came near her. To put an obvious claim on the woman. Mark her as his.

If what he suspected was true, then he'd done just exactly that.

After the rest of the team were out, Reid the last one gone, Hotch turned her to face him. It was easier for him to know what was being said if he could see the person. "Are you feeling ok?"

"Not really." Emily admitted.

Hotch had to admire her honesty. She was always a straight shooter, doing things by the book and in an upfront and honest way. He took a deep breath, unsure how to actually ask. "About that night. Is there anything I need to know?"

She wasn't stupid, she knew what he was asking. "I don't know, yet."

"What do you think?" He moved a little closer, one hand sliding down her arm, left bare by the tank she wore. He tried not to look at the cleavage on display.

"I don't know." She looked away, then, and he felt the shivers that suddenly hit her. "It's possible, I guess."

"Yes." He rubbed her arm, soothingly, unconsciously. "You've been ill the last few days, weeks, haven't you?"

"You know I have." She said, "God, Hotch. Now what? This is not something I ever thought would happen."

"I know." He leaned his forehead down, resting it against the softness of her hair. "But if it has, we need to decide how we're going to handle it."

She nodded, one hand unconsciously fisting in the material of his shirt. It was nice to be reminded that he was as equally affected by all this as she was. "I know. I'm scared. I'll admit it. This will change everything."

"For both of us." Hotch said against her ear. She smelled good, and he wished he could stay right where he was for a long while. "But we need to find out one way or another. Then we can go from there."

"What will we tell people?" Emily asked, moving a step back as she heard footsteps walking by in the hallway.

"If it's true?" He slipped one hand behind her back, to anybody watching it would have appeared to be a casual gesture between two colleagues who were comfortable with each other professionally. "That we are having a child. Anything else, like how or when—even why—is our own business, no one else's."

"And Strauss, the Bureau? What about that? Them? Hell, Hotch what about the _team?" _Emily felt panic rising. "I don't know what to do. I don't like feeling like this, I always have a plan. Always."

"Then once we know, one way or another, we'll make a plan. Together." He told her, squeezing her hip slightly. He liked that she was a tall woman, it had made things more equal that night. That fateful, wonderful night. He dropped his hand once they left the private conference room, not wanting to put her in a position for gossip. "And you'll let me handle the Bureau and Strauss. You need to trust me, ok? Can you do that?"

Emily thought a moment, then just before they caught up with the rest of the team at the elevators, she looked at him and told him the truth. "I don't know. Right now, I don't know about anything at all. Not a damned thing."


	3. Chapter 3

ACCIDENTS THREE

(This is completely separate from my other Hotch/Prentiss series, and I don't know if this will turn into a series in its own right or not.)

Hotch was grateful JJ had stayed behind at Quantico this case. That meant Emily would have the hotel room to herself. The team had spent the entire hop from Quantico to Louisville discussing the specifics of the case, and if he'd been hyper aware of the warmth of her hip pressing against his, no one could tell by their faces.

Hotch had already formulated a plan. Once they checked into the hotel for the night, he'd excuse himself and find the nearest drug store. They needed to confirm what he already knew before they could go any further.

Then he'd take action. He'd screwed up Jack's family life because of stupidity, he wasn't going to do the same to this new baby. This baby would grow up with its father there every night he could be. Hotch's stomach tightened when he thought of the woman in that equation. He'd go home with her every night. Would wake up to sleep tousled dark curls and eyes the color of his favorite dark chocolate every morning.

And he'd go back to his hotel room with her every away case. He'd have her to hold through the night in those cold, unfamiliar, sterile hotel rooms that blended into each other. He'd have her beside him. And with this baby, he'd be there for the first words, the first steps, the first pictures—all those things he'd missed with Jack and made Hayley so angry for.

And Emily would be a wonderful mother. Of that he had no doubt. She was kind, compassionate, caring, and all that would translate into wonderful parenting. As they drove from the Louisville airport to the police station just south of the Ohio River, his mind flashed to what that baby would look like perched on Emily's hip.

Dark curls, dark and wild, like Emily's were when she'd not straightened her hair, big dark eyes, a given between the two of them, a mouth just like her mother's, dimples like his because dimples were genetically dominant. She'd be beautiful, precious, and he couldn't wait to see her, to hold her. It occurred to him then, as Derek touched his shoulder to bring his attention to him. Hotch wanted a girl. One who'd look just like Emily, with little bits of him thrown in. He couldn't wait for her, to see Emily with her, to see Jack with her. He couldn't wait.

The hours in Kentucky started off awful. The team had spent most of the day outside along the riverbanks, just south of the small dam that controlled flooding on both the Kentucky and Indiana sides of the river, searching for any signs of what the bastard had done with the bodies, trying to determine what kind of thinking would make a man do those things.

The October day started off cold, but ended up being hotter than he would have suspected. Emily'd referred to it as Midwestern Indian Summer. It was near eighty, not unbearable, but enough to be uncomfortable after several hours, and Hotch had stripped off his jacket around noon. Emily had done the same, her pale arms left bare, her red tank clinging to her breasts distractedly. Her face was flushed, makeup long sweated off, but to Hotch she looked absolutely beautiful.

That didn't stop him from worrying. If he'd had a good excuse, he'd have sent her back to the precinct to rest in the climate controlled station. But she wouldn't tolerate coddling, he knew that, no more than he would, or _had_ after the New York explosion. But that didn't mean he wouldn't do whatever he could out there in the field to make sure she was alright.

EMILYEMILYEMILYEMILY

Hotch had shoved so much water in her direction over the last few hours Emily knew she'd float away in thirty more seconds. That simple. Not that she didn't appreciate it, she did. But if she was pregnant, he was _not _going to be hovering over her. It wasn't going to happen. Emily prided herself on her independence and he was not going to stifle that, in any way. But her only thought at the moment was finding a restroom. She motioned to the nearest team member, drawing his attention toward her.

"Find something, Emily?" Reid asked, sweater removed and white shirt clinging to his lanky frame. Whenever it get even a bit hot, the boy sweated like mad.

"Nothing. But I need to find a restroom. I'll be back in five." Emily said, pointing to the Crabshack restaurant a hundred yards up the bank. Louisville was built pretty much directly on the river banks which made it confusing that the UNSUB had been able to drag the two women victims down there with no one seeing. "Tell the others if they ask, ok?"

"Sure." Reid shrugged. He'd not missed how run-down his favorite female profiler had looked the last few days. "I think we're about done here anyway, don't you? I don't know what else Hotch expects to find here."

"I have no clue what that man thinks." Emily said, quietly. Spencer missed the significance behind her words, but Emily didn't care. She glanced toward the man in question, where he stood nearly one hundred yards in the other direction. "I'll be back in a few minutes, Spencer."

He nodded, his attention caught on movement from the other side of the river. It was quite a distance from the Kentucky side to the Indiana, and he wondered idly whether they'd find anything on the other side of the water. "Ok."

Emily took a little more than five minutes in the restroom, taking the time to run a paper towel over her face and down her arms. One thing she hadn't missed since transferring to DC was the Midwestern heat waves. Killers. She fished a band out of her fatigues and pulled her dark hair up off of her neck before heading back down to the water line.

Hotch met her halfway there. "You ok?"

"Fine, just a bathroom break." Emily said. "I hate the Midwest in Autumn. But I am fine, Hotch."

"I know." He smiled at her slightly, not moving to touch her though his mind was crying out for him to do just that. "Tonight, after Dave's asleep, we'll talk. I'll run to the drugstore, and then we'll find out one way or another."

"Ok." Emily took in a deep breath. "I can do this. I know I can, but dammit, it scares me shitless, you know? I don't know how you can be so calm about all this."

"_We _can do this. And I've been thinking of this for the last six weeks, Emily. All of it, every last thing about it, what we did that night, how it felt, what the possible repercussions could be, what the consequences may be. I've done nothing but think about it. So I know we can do this. And I want to."

_Oh shit. _Was all Emily could think. Because she could see on his face, hear in his tone, that he wasn't just talking about having a child together and dealing with the BAU and Bureau. He was talking about much more—between them.


	4. Chapter 4

ACCIDENTS FOUR

Emily's palms were sweating as she opened the adjoining door between her room and the one shared by Dave and Hotch. The next few minutes would cement the changes in her life, and it flat out terrified her. She just hoped it didn't show—she'd always been good at compartmentalizing, something she'd learned at her mother's knee.

Hotch stood waiting in the doorway, just looking down at her. He clutched a plastic grocery bag in one hand, and she knew it held _the test. _She shivered, looking at that bag—a reaction he didn't miss. He moved, coming fully into her hotel room, and closing the door behind himself. She'd taken a few steps back to give him room, but otherwise stood there staring at the bag in his hand.

It suddenly seemed even more real. Even more terrifying. She looked up at him and knew he read all of that on her face. He dropped the bag on the foot of the bed and moved quicker than she could ever remember seeing him. Then he had her against his chest, one hand holding her head, the other pulling her lower body to his. Her head dropped to his shoulder, and she just stood there breathing in the familiar scent of him.

Hotch felt the tremors running through her and felt the guilt flood him once again. It was more than obvious how confused she was, and he hated knowing it was mostly his fault. He was the one who'd made that first move weeks ago. He was the one who'd come on so strong, and he was the one who'd said screw protection. He was the one at fault, no matter what she said about it being both their responsibilities. "Shh, sweetheart. We can figure this out."

Emily heard him, but didn't reply, instead just clinging to his reassuring warmth. He continued rubbing one hand up and down her back and she closed her eyes before nodding. Before stepping back, breaking the moment. "First things first, though. Right?"

"Yes. We need to know." Hotch said. He didn't want to let her go, just wanted to stand there holding her, then move her to the bed behind him. He'd hold her there, too. More. If she'd let him. He picked up the bag and unceremoniously handed it to her.

He didn't miss the deep sigh she released or the way her hand trembled when she took the bag from him. Didn't miss the way she seemed to force herself into the restroom.

Five minutes later and they had the truth.

Hotch was stunned to see the undeniable results, seeing it in reality was a bit more terrifying than he'd thought it would be. Before the confirmation, his fantasies were just that, fantasies. Now he would get to see her with _his_ baby. The idea of it thrilled him; darkly and primitively, he wanted to scoop her up and take her back to his cave and keep her there. He wanted to make it clear to every man that she was now _his. _

He kept all of that masked, knowing that would frighten any woman off, even a female profiler. He just watched her, waiting for her to make the first sound. She just sat, holding the test loosely in one hand while staring down at it. She was chewing her bottom lip, the only outward sign of the turmoil she had to be feeling. He waited but she didn't speak. He stood, taking the test out of her hand, eyes catching on the _pregnant _result one more time, just to reconfirm it. "Emily."

She looked up at him before standing, almost startled to find him still there. Her big dark eyes were confused and scared and he closed his own, not able to look at them and see the accusation overtake them. "Hotch."

He didn't plan to do it, but he found himself slipping one hand into her dark curls, still damp from her shower, and wrapping the other hand around the smooth muscle of her hip. His lips were gentle as he brushed them softly, lightly against hers. He waited for her to pull back, but she didn't. He pressed a little more firmly, opening her lips with his own. She didn't fight him, her hands sliding around his waist to splay over his back. She still trembled against him, just like she had weeks ago.

The hand buried in her hair dropped, moving to cover her stomach, to caress her through the thin cotton tank she'd changed into. Her cotton shorts were short and covered very little of her, and he ran one hand over the silky skin just under the band of one leg. Emily had some of the softest skin he'd ever touched. He pulled back slightly, looking at the one hand covering her stomach, covering _their _child, and felt himself get harder . "Emily."

"Hmmm." Her eyes had been closed, her hands still resting against his narrow hips, but she pulled back when he said her name, looking up at him through wary eyes.

"I…" He started, swallowed, "God, you're beautiful."

He pulled her against him, giving her no time to protest. Just like before, he'd swooped in and kissed her six weeks ago, in a hotel room much like the one they were in now, but she hadn't fought him, hadn't protested. Just like she wasn't protesting now. He bent down, easily scooping her into his arms, and carrying her the six feet or so to the bed. His lips were back on hers within seconds as he lowered her to the mattress, following her down on it. His hands were caressing her through her night clothes, touching her shoulders, her breasts, her stomach. Then his hands were under her shirt, ghosting over the extra-sensitive skin of her breasts and she moaned, low and deep.

"Shh." He whispered against her lips. "We don't want to wake the others."

She nodded, wrapping her arms around his neck, parting her thighs so he could settle against her. "I'll be quiet."

Unlike the last time, he couldn't help but think. They'd been on a custodial interview, just the two of them, and he'd enjoyed every moan she'd made. But it couldn't be like that, this time. Not with Dave on one side of their room, and Derek and Reid on the other. So they'd just have to be quiet.

Easier for him then her, and it thrilled him, knowing he could pull such a response from her. Again. He made short work of her clothing, slipping her free of the skimpy cotton garments. Then he was looking at her, mentally cataloging all the physical changes that had occurred in her body over the last few weeks. Only one place was it really noticeable, and he touched her there gently, worshipfully.

It wasn't long before he was out of his clothing, too, and they were reenacting that night, on a much quieter scale. He drove her up one hill then drove her higher, all the while thrilling at the lust glazing her dark eyes as she looked at him with each touch of his hands. There was no need to stop for birth control, it would be redundant at that point, so he didn't have to pause, didn't have to do anything but let that primitive man inside him come to the fore. When he'd pushed himself to the limits he noticed the look in her eyes and knew it was her time, too, one hand slipped over her mouth to muffle her sounds, remembering exactly how she had a tendency to scream when she came, and he let himself go as well.

When they finally started breathing again, he lay slightly behind her, one hand back to covering her stomach, the other lazily exploring her changing chest. "Emily?"

"Umm?" Her eyes were soft, her mouth swollen. She'd never looked more beautiful to him.

"You know this changes everything, between us, don't you?" He knew where he was going with his words, and he wanted to make sure she did, too. "I want everything. You, me, the baby. I want the real deal. There's nothing casual about this, not now. And I don't just mean because of the baby."


	5. Chapter 5

Emily could hear the sincerity and the determination in his voice and she swallowed, before nodding her hand. She understood. It scared her, but she did understand where he was coming from. Hotch was meant to be a family man, even with such a complex job.

She just didn't know if she was meant to be a family woman. But she didn't have much choice now. She couldn't regret the baby, could never regret a baby, but that didn't make it any less frightening. Especially when she added in their careers. "How are we going to do this?"

"I don't know, yet." Hotch admitted, as she turned over to pillow her head on his chest. He pulled the blankets up around them, tucking them gently around her shoulders. "But we'll figure it out."

"First? What will we do first?" Her hand was clenched around his wrist, the only sign of how upset she was.

"First, we solve this case and get back to DC. Second, you go to the doctor. Third, I think we should tell the team." Hotch said, definitively. "We can hold off telling anyone else until later."

"Prove first that we can still work together without this interfering with the team's effectiveness." Emily nodded, understanding his reasoning. "But Hotch, this is going to put a big pinch on the team—me and JJ sidelined."

"We'll work around it," He said. "And it'll just be a temporary thing. You'll just be stuck in a lot of precincts working victimology for the next little while."

"God, what will they all think?" She moaned, closing her eyes.

"Who? The local LEOs or the team?" He smiled softly. "I can just see Reid's face, can't you?"

She laughed at that. "Yes. But it's more Derek and Dave I'm worried about."

He could understand that. Derek was her contemporary, her friend, and he'd always partnered them together—until the New York case. She valued the other man a lot, and if Hotch admitted it, he'd always been a little jealous of them two. And Dave—he was a mentor to her, and was becoming a good friend who trusted her. His opinion would matter greatly to her. Spencer and JJ, on the other hand, they looked up to Emily in a lot of ways, especially JJ. This new relationship between them would irrevocably change the team dynamics, and if he admitted it, he was a bit nervous about it, too.

"How?" she asked, "How are we going to tell them? Let them figure it out for themselves, or just flat out tell them?"

"Confirm, but not deny?" Hotch suggested. "I want to wait until everyone's together if we just tell them. But if we let them figure it out, it could take awhile."

They were both so immensely private, he knew it would take even a bunch of profilers some time to catch on. But it would be nice not to have to hide how he felt about her from those he was closest to.

"Why don't we just take it as it goes, for now." Emily said, her hand releasing his wrist to lie over his chest. "I kind of want to tell JJ and Garcia myself."

Hotch could understand that. They were a close trio, and just springing something like this on her friends wouldn't be easy for her. "Maybe we should just tell them about us seeing each other first, and tell them about the baby a few weeks later."

"I don't want to hide it." Emily argued. "And JJ and I will be sharing a hotel room, at least for another six weeks, she's bound to notice."

"If you want to tell her, Emily, tell her." Hotch said, "I'm not ever going to hide this from anyone on the team. Ever. I'm not ashamed of it."

Emily nodded. She wasn't ashamed of it, either. "I'll admit, I am surprised by it, though."

Hotch smiled, eyes beginning to heat. She'd said the same thing six weeks earlier. They'd been in St. Lake City, just the two of them. JJ had had a doctor's appointment, Dave had been off on a consult of his own, and had taken Reid with him. Derek had stayed behind at the BAU to 'man' the fort. Hotch thought his volunteering to sit that particular custodial out had more to do with the new female transfer to the C team unit than anything.

So that had left him with Emily. They'd never done a custodial together. He'd never done anything with her individually, except a few, rare field interviews. He wasn't sure why. Now he knew, though. It had been his defense mechanism. He'd loved Hailey throughout his marriage, but he knew that men—and women—would often be attracted to others even if they were committed to their current partners. It was human nature. And Hotch was good at fighting human nature. That was part of the job, understanding it, and being able to counter it. With Emily, he'd reacted instinctively, seeing her as a threat to his unit, and to him personally. Then after his initial impression had changed, their relationship was pretty much set in stone. He was her boss, a superficial acquaintance with whom she spent as little time with outside of work as possible.

He'd admired her, of course. Had thought she was a beautiful, attractive woman, and that attraction hadn't waned as they'd continued to work together. But he'd never dreamed of acting on it. He'd grown more comfortable with her around the time they'd had the West Bune, Texas case. She'd come to him about Reid, and they'd talked, freely and openly. He'd been impressed with her concern, even more impressed when she shared her suspicions about him and a support group. He'd realized their relationship had come to a fork in the road, that she'd made the first move to lessoning the gap between them. She'd trusted him, and not just professionally. She'd counted on him to help with a _friend. _And Hotch had spent a few hours on the plane back to DC—after his talk with Reid—contemplating the shift in their relationship and what it could possibly mean for them.

Sex hadn't entered the equation then. Not then.

It wasn't until after the New York subway cases and the explosion that they'd moved even closer to considering it. Well—_he'd _moved closer to considering it. He still wasn't too sure _why _she had capitulated so easily six weeks ago.

He'd been the one to touch her, to run his hand over her arm. A damned rash of tornadoes in the Midwest had grounded their flight out, and they'd had to scramble to book rooms. They'd ended up sharing a suite instead.

Then they'd ended up sharing a bed. And it had started with one touch.

(_next chapter will be a flashback, I think)_


	6. Chapter 6

(Ok—I just watched the season four preview…so who knows who really got hurt or what happened…let's just pretend my way of viewing things works…after all—this story is already AU. Let's just pretend Hotch lost his hearing for a wee bit..and Derek was injured, but not enough to keep him out of the BAU for…lets say…longer than a month? )

ACCIDENTS

As Emily drifted off beside him, Hotch lay there thinking back over exactly what had happened between them six weeks earlier. He stroked her spine lazily, his fingers ghosting over her skin.

_The bastard in front of him had given no thought to the families he'd left behind. He'd taken women, mothers every one of them, and held them for nearly six days. He'd kill them on Sunday's—always Sunday's. And Hotch knew as he stared at the man that Chad Humphries didn't give a damn about anyone—including himself. _

_Humphries watched the other occupant of the room, though he never spoke to her directly. She had been silent for most of the interview and Hotch had almost forgotten she was there. Strange, that. Emily Prentiss wasn't one of those women a man could easily forget—in any capacity. _

_It always burned Hotch when an UNSUB looked at Prentiss or JJ wrong. Always. Hotch knew it was the chauvinist that he kept buried. It occasionally rose to the top, but only occasionally. The rational part of him was well aware that the woman beside him could more than take care of herself. _

_Hotch wrapped up the custodial, and signaled to his agent to signal the guards to let them out of interview room. It was not an interrogation, but a custodial, so things were slightly less formal. It didn't mean Hotch was any less on edge._

_Humphries smiled then, a cold expression that Hotch didn't miss. When the man moved, his hands going straight for Emily, Hotch was out of his chair in a shot. Humphries got one hand on Emily's hip and the other in her hair before Hotch had him. Emily's own hands had moved immediately into a trained defensive position but it wasn't necessary for her to defend herself, as Hotch had him slammed down on the wooden table between them. It was over that quick. Emily jerked her cuffs from her belt and handed them to her supervisor and Hotch made quick work of cuffing the bastard to the table. Ten seconds later prison personnel rushed in and took over, and Emily and Hotch were standing against the wall out of the men's way. _

"_Are your custodials always this mundane?" Emily asked, her humor tingeing the words._

"_Of course." Hotch said, looking at her. Humphries had been shouting the entire time he'd been face down. 'He'd only wanted to touch her. Nothing more.' The man had said. It still made Hotch's hands itch to hit the man._

"_Maybe I should have insisted you bring me on a few more, just a little bit harder, huh?" Her tone was wry and Hotch looked at her appraisingly. _

_He hadn't brought her on custodials in the past. He'd always felt awkward with her when it was just them one-on-one. He vividly recalled spending a very tense flight from DC to Milwaukee nearly a year ago. It wasn't an experience he'd thought either one was too eager to repeat. _

_But all of that changed in New York. She'd not judged him for his actions. Not the way he knew Morgan and Dave had. The two men had known how conflicted Kate Joyner had made him feel. And then the entire case had—as Morgan had said—went to shit. The hospital, the subway, all of it. _

_And Hotch hadn't been able to hear what was going on, his hearing had almost been non-existent for nearly three weeks after the initial explosion. Everyone had known that—but the woman beside him was the one who _didn't _watch him like a hawk. He'd appreciated that, and it had drawn him to working more closely with her. _

_The hearing loss had made it difficult for him to always understand what was going on around him, and for a profiler, that was a painful blow. So he'd started watching _her. _She'd been his barometer to things that he just didn't get. When things didn't make sense to him, he'd gain understanding by watching her face. When someone made her tense, he knew it. When something struck her as funny, he knew that, too. Emily was an emotional measure for the entire unit, and he'd long been aware of it. She was always the one to question the ethics behind their actions, and Hotch had known that _she—_at least, would show an accurate account of whatever was flying around them. He'd desperately needed that, and when he'd first had the realization that he could keep up on the subtleties that he'd missed by watching _Emily, _he'd leapt to it like a thirsty man did a stream. _

_Pretty soon watching his colleague bordered on an obsession. He'd hid it, although he almost thought Dave knew. The older man always somehow moved Emily into a position for Hotch to see her face. Hotch hadn't confronted him about it. _

_Things had been so screwed up around the unit anyway, with Hotch unable to hear, JJ's pregnancy, and Derek's own injuries, that everything had changed between everybody. Dave, Spencer, and Emily—they'd been relegated to the backstage. Hotch knew it was partially his fault. _

_As the days had progressed and his hearing hadn't shown any signs of improvement, he'd grown to _need _her at his side. To work, to function at his job, he needed to observe her observations in order to make his own. It was a curious form of dependency that he wondered if she'd noticed._

_She'd never said anything. Not in all the weeks between that night in May and the third week in July. Hotch's hearing had started to return, and he'd began limiting the Prentiss-profiling that he'd done. But he still found himself watching his colleague at the oddest times. He'd like to think he'd gotten to know her pretty well in the last several months, and he couldn't regret that. It had been his cold attitude toward her that had kept them from learning about each other—at least more than two profilers could learn about each other in over a year's time of working together. He was more than happy with their work relationship. _

_Things were good, at least between them, so Hotch settled into a new routine, one that included working with her almost daily. No one had been surprised when he'd chosen her to accompany him to Salt Lake City. _

_After they finished with Humphries they headed to the airport. The jet waited, to take them back to DC and the rest of the team. Dave and Reid had driven to North Carolina to do a custodial interview of their own, and JJ had taken a few days off for a doctor's visit and other various personal things. That had left the still recovering Derek back at the BAU under the watchful eye of one extremely protective technical analyst. _

_Once at the airport, they were given the news. A rash of severe thunderstorms had broken out over several Midwestern states and they'd not be able to fly out that night, after all. It would be at least eight the next morning before the weather cleared enough for them to make the trip. _

_The news upset Emily, Hotch could see that. He touched her softly on the shoulder, drawing her attention to him. "Come on, let's find a hotel. Then we can get something to eat. Nothing we can do about the weather."_

_(The second half is coming up…was too long for one chappy)_


	7. Chapter 7

Accidents Seven

_Dinner had been surprisingly casual. Emily had come out of the hotel room wearing an actual pair of jeans and a t shirt with FBI printed on it. He half suspected it was Morgan's, and that thought bothered him on a visceral level. He wondered at the root cause. _

"_Ready?" She asked, facing him. She'd learned early on that it was easier for him to communicate with her if she was looking directly at him as she spoke. Now it was just habit. _

"_Sure." Hotch said, moving forward to grasp her elbow. _

_They'd ended up at a street fair, a place neither one would have voluntarily went at any other time. But it was close to the hotel and the smells of fried dough and pizza were unmistakable. And alluring. He'd laughed, seeing the way she'd practically inhaled the _elephant ear _or whatever it had been called. He'd moved closer, taking in the scent of cinnamon and sugar. She'd licked the sweet spice off her finger and he'd been caught. _

_Her action had been innocent, earthy, sensual, and free. And it made him look at her in a way he never had before. She offered him a bite, the gesture friendly and innocent. He took the piece of dough from her, and popped it in his mouth. _

"_Well?" She'd asked, her dark eyes showing the reflections of the bright carnival rides. She really was a beautiful woman, but had he ever noticed how _sexual _she actually was? How sensual she was?_

_He couldn't remember. "It's good. I'm not fond of cinnamon, but this is pretty good."_

"_It's a guilty pleasure. In Chicago they had street fairs every week, it seemed. I actually had to set personal rules to keep from sneaking off and finding some of these." Emily laughed then, a sweet sound that drew the attention of several nearby men. Hotch didn't miss their appreciation or the envious glances sent _his _way. It made him feel…good…to be with her. _

_He hadn't felt that way in a long time, especially with a woman. His mind shied away from what he was thinking, the part of him that was Bureau through and through shouting out that he couldn't have _those _thoughts about one of his team mates. _

_For once in his life, Hotch suppressed that voice. Just for a little bit. Just for one night. _

_He moved closer, wrapping his hand around her elbow, drawing her just a little bit closer as she finished off the doughy treat and tossed the paper plate and napkin in a receptacle. "Come on. Let's walk around a bit."_

"_What, don't tell me—you love carnivals. In your off time, we could find you playing skee ball and bean bag toss?" Emily laughed again, and Hotch found himself joining in. "Be honest."_

"_I've not been to one of these since I was a small kid. At least not in an official capacity." Hotch admitted. The crowd was growing thicker and his hand tightened around her upper arm. She felt warm, and the skin beneath his fingers was incredibly soft. Feminine. The thought that she'd be soft everywhere crept in to his head. It wouldn't leave. He found himself running his thumb over the skin on her inner elbow, ghosting lightly. She shivered at the touch, and his eyes jumped to hers._

_The surprise written in her darker gaze warred with a heat that _surprised _him. "Emily?"_

"_Umm?" She straightened, pulling her arm from his grasp, and moved away slightly. She laughed slightly, looked away. He had no trouble reading the awkward embarrassment she was feeling. He stepped back. _

_Neither said anything. Soon they were back at the hotel, standing awkwardly in the last rooms available—a suite near the top of the eight story building. Convention week in Salt Lake City had met airport delays and they were extremely thankful to have found that hotel before going for dinner. Hotch slipped quickly into his half of the suite, awkward and actually at a loss for words. He didn't know what to say to her. _

_It was eight in the evening Salt Lake time but he knew it was closer to eleven back at Quantico, but his body wouldn't relax. The room suddenly felt small, cramped, and he wished fleetingly for a cold beer. Anything to distract him from the completely inappropriate thoughts rushing through his mind. Him, her, in a hotel, alone. It's hot, and the natural progression begins to happen. _

_He'd not had sex in well over a year. He'd thought about it. Had planned on having it with Kate—if she was willing—after the New York case. But that didn't happen, of course. But that he'd be sitting there, fantasizing about _Emily Prentiss _was something he'd never have imagined doing. No matter how attractive of a woman he'd thought she was._

_He hadn't been blind to her, by any means. And he'd even _used _her attractiveness when it was convenient, but had he given it any personal thought before? No, not really. But as he took a shower, cold, it was all he could think about. Thinking about what it would be like to have her suddenly join him in the water, seeing the way the spray would hit her and trail over her shoulders, the way it would bead on all that pale skin. The way her hair would start to curl from the water, until her hair was wild and black from the spray._

_He'd look at her, and _not _wonder what in the hell they were thinking. He'd look at her and think _Oh my God, this is mine! _At least for the night. _God, if only for a night.

_Hotch knew that if he could just have her for the night, one damned night without the Bureau dictating his every action, he'd probably die a happy man. _

_But he knew better. The former prosecutor was not a gambling man, but he knew the odds. And they weren't good. Emily Prentiss was as dedicated to the job and the Bureau as he, and he doubted _she _would ever do anything to jeopardize her position. Especially by fraternizing with her team leader. Her supervisor._

_It just wouldn't happen, and he'd be better off just pretending he'd never had these thoughts. About her and him. Hotch was painfully aware of why the Bureau frowned on opposite sexed agents sharing hotel suites, and if he could help it, he'd never put himself in the position again. Would never have to sit on the edge of a cold, sterile hotel bed and know that _she _waited on the other side of the wall._

_God, he needed a drink._

_Hotch rarely ever drank while on cases, and only then it was after the case was solved and the team was on there way back to DC. But tonight, he'd make an exception. Just to drowned out the thoughts of him screwing his subordinate in all the varied ways he could think of. Ways _Hayley _had never let him have her. _

_But in his mind, _Emily _wouldn't protest. _Emily _would be more than willing. She'd like it hot, and quick, and slow and sweet. Any way Hotch wanted. However many ways or times he wanted. She'd be willing, and ready. As ready as him. _

_He opened the suite door and headed toward the shared kitchen, needing that drink extremely badly. He stopped, seeing the woman outlined in the light from the window. She'd opened the blinds, and stood staring out at the Salt Lake City world beneath them. Lightening flashed behind her, occasionally lighting up her face. Her hair was down, the locks slightly tangled, looking like some man had ran his fingers through them. _

_Hotch's fingers itched, and he balled his hands into fists to contain the urge to sink _his _fingers into that dark hair. She wore another t-shirt, one he definitely recognized as one of Morgan's. It had ATF printed on it, and the sight of another man's shirt on her inexplicably angered him. Made him just a little bit careless. Made him want to say _damn the Bureau, and damn Derek Morgan. _He bit his tongue, but stepped a little closer, one hand raising to wrap around the same arm he'd held on the street a few hours earlier. This time his touch was more insistent, more firm, more intent. "Emily."_


	8. Chapter 8

ACCIDENTS EIGHT

"_Hotch." Emily said, and he could hear the nerves behind her words. Nerves he'd not heard from a woman in a long time. Hell, he'd been with the same woman for over twenty years, so did he even know what sexual timidity actually was any more? "You're still awake."_

"_Lot to think about." Hotch looked at her as he moved a little closer. She wore sweatpants, dark navy, and he was absolutely certain they were Morgan's. What the hell? "Morgan's pants?"_

"_Yes. I borrowed them when I stayed with him after he got out of the hospital." Emily admitted. "Unintentionally swiped a few things when doing laundry. Been meaning to return them, but end up wearing them before I can."_

_The explanation was logical to Hotch, but the sight of the baggy material covering _her _still bothered him. "Why are you still up?"_

"_Um. Insomnia, you know?" She laughed, turning slightly to look out the window again. "It's a beautiful night."_

"_It's storming." And it was, the night sky was split by rolling clouds and harsh lightning. _

"_I love it when it storms like this." She smiled, and he leaned just a little closer. "It's so free, wild, earthy. Awesome."_

"_Yes." All those were words he'd use to describe the woman he'd just gotten done fantasizing about. "It is that."_

_She turned, reaching to set her glass on the bar behind them, and unintentionally bumped his arm. "Excuse me."_

_His other hand moved quickly to wrap around her free arm. Then he had her trapped against his chest. The window was at her back, he was at her front. He could smell her, the slight vanilla of her shampoo, the soda on her lips. It was an unbelievably inviting scent. His hands tightened. _

_Emily looked up at him, and he could easily see the confusion in her dark eyes, even though the room was lit only by small running lights arranged around the kitchenette. The lightning flashed and he saw something…more…in her gaze. A heat he recognized warred with caution._

_In that instant he hated that caution. He knew what it meant, what it represented. The damned BAU was rearing its somewhat ugly head. His thumbs began making concentric circles on the incredibly soft skin of her inner elbows. That soft, soft skin. She started shivering, and he could feel the tiny tremors against him. _

"_Hotch." Her voice broke, a tiny laugh escaped. He recognized it for what it was. He wanted to capture it, the way he'd captured her against him. He pulled her just a little closer, until her lips were just a breath away from his. Her eyes had widened, but not closed, and he smiled, thrilled at knowing he's ruffled the unrufflable Emily Prentiss. He hadn't realized until that very moment how he wanted to _shake _things up a little bit with her, to see just exactly what was beneath the surface, not to mention what was under her clothes—another _man's _clothes. _

"_Emily." He said it softly, intently. She couldn't have missed his intention. But she didn't pull away, just tilted her head back to look up at him more fully. She was barefoot, making her appear shorter than she normally did when next to him. He liked how it made him feel, standing there, almost looming over her. He felt strong, fierce—primitive. God, he wanted her. Wanted to show her every primitive urge running through his body, and then do it all over again. "Emily."_

_She didn't even attempt to pull away, but those dark eyes drifted shut. Hotch left his opened. He wanted to see every thing on her face. He'd Prentiss-profile her while he did all those things to her that he'd suddenly wanted to do. God, it got him hard._

"_This surprises me." She admitted, her shivers increasing a little. He pulled her in tighter to his chest. "Seems unreal. Alternate universe or something."_

"_You've been reading science fiction again." Hotch laughed then, "And it surprises me, too. But I don't think it should, Emily. Not at all. Not really."_

_He didn't give her a chance to say anything else, just lowered his head those last few inches. He wasn't the least bit tentative. He knew what he wanted, and he'd given her an opportunity to object. She hadn't, so it was on her head as well. He pressed his lips firmly against hers, tasting the lemon-lime of her soda. Tasting _her _in a way he'd never imagined. _

_She didn't protest. Not once, just began kissing him back. It surprised him, that she would. Pleased him that she didn't fight it. His hands dropped from her arms, and curved around her waist. Her arms moved up around his shoulders, pulling him closer. Her back arched, and he felt her pressed against him fully, then. They both moaned. _

_He tightened his grip and lifted. Soon she was seated on the window seat. It was just wide enough for him to turn her and lower them both to the small space. Her legs, he pulled up to wrap around his waist. He felt her, pressed against her. She was just the right size. He didn't give her a chance to protest as his hands went under that t-shirt of Morgan's. Her skin was just as soft as he'd known it would be, and then it was him that moaned. Her hands weren't exactly still, either. He felt them raking up his back, under his own shirt. _

_It was _she_ who pulled off the first piece of clothing—he didn't see where his shirt landed. But he took it as a sign of what she wanted, and he pulled her forward a little. Just long enough to slip that damned ATF t-shirt over her head. She wore nothing beneath it. His breath caught as he touched her. She moaned, the sound low in her throat. It was such an earthy sound that he smiled, determined to pull as many different sounds from her as he could. If he had his way, she'd be screaming _his _name before the night was over. _

_Soon it wasn't enough for him, and he asked her if she was absolutely sure of what they were doing. A moan and nod were his only answers. His hands made quick work of the sweats, sliding the baggy material down her long, long legs. He knew she was athletic, in perfect physical shape, but seeing the proof right in front of him, had him hotter than he'd ever thought possible. Then he was touching her and they were both moaning. _

_Then touch wasn't enough, either, and he forced her back on the bench just a little more. Just enough for him to get into position. Her eyes were glazed, unfocused, staring right at him. He knew then that the only thing in _her _world at the moment was _him _and that made him just about lose it. He couldn't wait any longer. He had a brief thought about being responsible, about protecting both of them, but a part of him reared up and screamed against it. He wanted to actually _feel _her. Just for that night. And he didn't want to stop long enough to search the damned suite for something. It wasn't as if he carried it in his ready bag wherever he went. Then her hands were on him, pulling his own sweats off his hips, and he didn't care. Not at all. So he listened to that voice in the back of his head that told him all he wanted was her hot and wet around him. Nothing, not even air separating their skin. So that's what he went after. Complete closeness._

_He took her first, right there on the window seat, blinds opened, city lights below them and storm rolling above them. He took her hard and fast, and had her screaming his name._

"You're smiling." Her voice came from the pillow beside him, jerking him out of his reflections. "What about?"

"About Salt Lake City. The window seat." He said, tone calm and completely Hotch-like, even though his eyes were heated in the low lamp light. He knew she was like Morgan, choosing to sleep with a small light on to fight the dark. "You, the night, the storm."

"Mmm. What about it?"

"How you looked wearing _Morgan's _clothes and how I wanted to get them off of you." He told her, sliding a little closer. He had a while before he had to be back in his own hotel room. "How that's exactly what I did."

"Why did it bother you?" She asked, in a sleep-roughened voice that tightened his gut. "I could see it in your eyes when I told you they were Derek's."

"Because, I wanted you out of them—because they _weren't _mine." He admitted, as his hand ran over her side, over her waist, down to curve around her hip. He pulled her lower body against his, letting her feel for herself exactly what he was remembering about that night. "How I wanted them gone. Burned, even."

"You? That sounds a bit Neanderthal." Emily smiled, sleepily, yawned. She missed the way his eyes narrowed. "Especially for you."

"Oh, I have caveman tendencies, sweetheart." He laughed, a low sound that she'd rarely heard. "Let me show you."


	9. Chapter 9

Hotch finally left her side around six the following morning. He didn't go directly through the adjoining room, but made a quick pit stop at the hotel vending machines. He selected two packages of crackers, one with cheese, the other with peanut butter, and a lemon-lime soda. He returned to Emily's room and put them on the bedside table, then took a moment to stare down at her as she slept.

Her lips were swollen, soft and inviting, just begging for him to bend down and kiss them. But he refrained; God only knew how she needed the rest, and he'd made himself a promise to see that she took care of herself to the best of both their abilities. He tucked the blanket back up around her shoulders, dropped a casual kiss on her forehead, and slipped quietly through the adjoining door, ready to slide into his own bed for at least another hour's sleep.

It wasn't going to happen. He knew that as soon as the man in the opposite bed spoke. "Have a good night?"

"Dave." Hotch said, stopping in his tracks. He kept his expression as inscrutable as ever, even though he knew Dave couldn't see him through the darkness. "You're awake early."

"I could say the same for you. Now I know you've not been working all night. And I doubt you forgot your room key, so there must be another reason you're coming through our colleague's door, am I right?' Hotch hearing might not have been quite up to bar, even now, but he didn't miss the slight accusation behind Dave's words.

"What do you think the reason is, Dave?" Hotch asked, slipping his shoes off. "What do you expect me to say?"

"How long have you two been together?" Dave asked.

"About six weeks."

"Salt Lake City?"

"Salt Lake City." Hotch confirmed.

"I never would have guessed you two have been going behind everyone's backs for that long, and we never caught on? How often have you snuck into her room?" Dave's tone now held only curiosity, which didn't surprise Hotch in the least. The older man was a worse gossip seeker than anyone Hotch had ever meant. But he never repeated what he learned, of that Hotch was certain.

"Just tonight. We decided after Salt Lake that it probably wasn't a good idea." Hotch admitted. Dave was one of his few friends, and he felt almost as comfortable sharing the rare bit of personal information with him as he had Gideon. And Dave would be a good sounding board for the information the team was about to receive. "But things have changed."

"Why?" Dave asked. "The changes, I mean? I assume the not a good idea part came from the whole fraternization and BAU policies."

"Because there's indisputable proof of what we did. And I care about her. That is undeniable. And I won't have anyone telling me who or what I can care about, not even the BAU." Hotch said, firmly.

"Proof?" Dave's voice rose as the words sunk in. "Good God, you got her pregnant."

"I wouldn't have put it quite that melodramatically." Hotch said, wryly.

"Dammit, are you _insane_?" Dave asked, reaching up and flipping on the light so he could see Hotch's face. "Strauss will eat _her _alive! Let alone what this will do to _your _career."

"Strauss better not do a damned thing to her." Hotch's words were lethal, and both men were well aware of it. "I don't care what she does to me, I have no aspirations to leave the BAU. I think Strauss knows that. And we didn't intend for it to happen, it just did. And I'm not the least bit unhappy about it."

"And Emily? How does _she _feel about all this?" Dave asked.

"Confused. Worried. Scared." Hotch admitted, looking back toward the door that separated them from one another. "Surprised it happened. Nervous."

"Is she ok? I mean, she plans on keeping it, doesn't she?" Dave asked, and Hotch could hear the hesitancy behind the question.

"Yes, _we _plan on keeping _her_." Hotch stressed, even the thought of what Dave was implying infuriating him on an intrinsic level. "I told her, we'll work this out together. But first we have to solve this case, prove we can work together as part of the team without it interfering."

"Her?" Dave smiled as he spoke. "A little early to tell that now, isn't it? You want a girl."

"Yes. I have a son. Now I want a daughter." Hotch admitted, the words something he'd not even shared with Emily yet. She was still too busy dwelling on the immediacy of the pregnancy to think of the specifics of being a parent. He knew they'd discuss gender preferences eventually. "If that's what the baby is."

"And in the meantime? What are you two going to do?" Dave asked. "You know she'll be the one to suffer the most, Aaron. I'd hate to see her hurt, if this is just a casual thing between you two."

"It's not just a casual thing. It was never a casual thing; I never planned or expected this to happen, Dave. But now that it has, I am happy about it. I know this will change the team, change us, but it is a given. And nothing is going to change that."

"So when were you planning on telling the rest of us?" Dave threw his blankets back and moved to stand. Hotch just sat on the edge of his own mattress and met his eyes head on. Unblinking. He had nothing to hide, nothing to prove to the older man, and both of them knew it.

"Probably soon. She wants to tell JJ and Garcia herself." Hotch said. "Can't exactly hide it in a hotel room forever."

"She's been sick?" Dave asked, concern evident in his tone. "How bad?"

"Hit and miss. Nothing too serious, yet. But she's only six weeks. We took a test last night, and it's positive. She's not made it to a doctor yet."

DADDYHOTCHDADDYHOTCHDADDYHOTCH

Hotch caught her coming out of her room fifteen minutes before they were supposed to meet the rest of the team. She was pale, and her eyes showed a touch of fatigue and he felt immediately guilty for his part in keeping her up late. He wrapped one hand around her elbow and pulled her closer. His lips grazed her forehead. It was a moment out of time, and one neither would repeat once they left the hotel. "You ok?"

"Tired. But the crackers and soda helped." She smiled at him, then, and he could easily see the nerves she still felt. It wasn't going to happen between them in just one day's time. He cursed himself for his impatience. He'd have to suppress the urges he felt toward her, let her grow more comfortable with the changes occurring between them. "Thank you."

"Dave knows." He said, lips near her ear.

"What?" Her eyes flew to his. "Already?"

"He was awake when I got back in the room, Emily. And I'm not going to hide it." His words were firm, determined. "From anyone."

"No. I understand that. I just thought we'd have a day or two before we had to face it. At least wait until after a doctor confirmed." Emily whispered back. "And tell them all at once, not just person by person."

"Tell everyone what?" A male voice came from behind them, causing Emily to jerk. Hotch's hold on her elbow didn't loosen. He pulled her closer to him as they both turned to face the two men behind them. Derek and Reid stood just outside their hotel door, and had obviously been there for a few minutes. Derek had been the one to speak and he looked at them suspiciously. He analyzed behavior for a living, and what was happening in front of him was not casual colleague behavior. Something was going on, and it was evident the dark-skinned man knew it. "Hotch, man. What's going on? Something we need to know?"

Hotch glanced at her before answering. He hadn't missed the deer-in-head-lights quality of her expression and his stomach turned at the awkwardness that was sure to follow his announcement. His first thought was for her. "Emily? You ready for this?"

"I don't see as how we have a choice." She said, grimly. No one missed the way her hand trembled as she brushed the dark bangs out of her eyes. Dave had moved from his opened door quickly to stand beside her, when he'd realized what was going on in the hall.

"Couldn't think of a better time, Hotch?" The older profiler asked. "Emily, you ok?"

She nodded, though everyone could see how visibly upset she was. "Tell them, Hotch."

"Emily, what the hell is going on here? Are you ok?" Derek demanded, visibly impatient. Reid just stood watching the proceedings, eyes darting between Emily, Hotch and Dave.

"Emily's pregnant." Hotch said, firmly, bluntly—completely calmly. "And I'm the father. Any questions?"

_(Sue1313…next chapter is one you'll find interesting…)_


	10. Chapter 10

"Statistically, two women on the same team within the FBI being pregnant is not highly probable." That was the first thing said after Hotch's announcement. Reid's eyes were wide, and it was apparent the boy was shocked. "Especially considering that teams within the FBI with more than one female member are often very rare."

"That's all you have to say?" Morgan demanded of the younger profiler.

Reid looked at him puzzled, before returning his gaze back to his superior. "Wait a minute…did you say…Hotch?"

"Yes, Reid." Hotch said, fighting the smallest of smiles at Reid's reaction. "I said it. I am the father."

"Holy shit!" Reid yelped, dropping his leather bag from where he carried it. Files and books spilled out of the flap he'd forgotten to fasten. "No way!"

"Yes, way." Emily said, Hotch could see her own lips twitching. It was so stereotypically _Reid_ of a reaction. Hotch also hadn't missed how she'd yet to look at Morgan. It was telling. His hand moved behind her back, coming to rest on her waist. He pulled her to his side, an unmistakable claiming and comforting action that none of the other men missed. He saw it in their gazes—one amused, one shocked, and one…_angry._

"Morgan?" Hotch prompted. Normally he'd let the other man work it out for himself, but he could sense how it was upsetting Emily. Hotch wouldn't stand for that, not when he could fix it.

"How long?" The younger man's voice was tight.

"Six weeks." Emily admitted, eyes soft and pleading as she looked at first Hotch and then Derek. Then she straightened, becoming the coolly composed agent they were all used to seeing. "We were debating the best way to tell you. We wanted to tell the entire team together."

"I see." Morgan waited a minute. Then he surprised them all by stepping toward her and wrapping her in a tight hug. He whispered something in her ear that only she heard. A small smile touched her lips, and a moment of clear understanding was contained in the look she sent him when he'd pulled away. He smiled at her, and Hotch knew immediately that the two of them would be ok.

"We need to get moving. We can continue this discussion later. Don't mention it to JJ and Garcia," Hotch said.

"I want to tell them myself." Emily said, firmly. The three other men nodded, and then they were back to business.

DEREKTHEDEFENDERDEREKTHEDEFENDER

In light of the recent news, Emily was elected to stay behind at the Louisville Metro PD to work victimology. Hotch took a few moments after the assignments had been given to make sure she knew he hadn't chosen her to stay behind out of an urge to protect her (although he was certainly glad of that result) but because he wanted to give the men time to adjust to the new situation—he knew that regardless of what they said, the team could be a bit protective with the female members, even Emily—and because something about the victimology was _off_, and he trusted her to find it. He'd squeezed her elbow, a habit he'd developed in the last six weeks, and one he had no intention of ever breaking. It was one of the few physical expressions of his feelings he'd allow himself while in the work eye. When back in his hotel room, he'd be free to touch her however he wanted. She'd nodded, and their eyes had met. She'd smiled, before adding. "But we do need to talk about how this will affect my time in the field, Hotch. I'm not going to be sidelined, any more than JJ was—probably _less _than JJ was."

He'd nodded, though he'd not been happy.

"Morgan, you and I'll go to the Indiana side of the water, talk to the parents of our first victim. Dave, you and Reid, talk to the second. And the husband." He ordered a few minutes later.

"There has to be a reason he chose those particular areas," Dave began. "I can't put my finger on it. Reid and I will check the county public access point as well. Officer Compton said it was directly across from the New Albany Indiana side."

"Good. Any questions?" Hotch asked, looking around at his team. Reid and Dave both nodded, and he knew they were one hundred percent clear on the next step. Morgan still wouldn't meet Hotch's eyes, and the team leader sighed. He'd have to have a talk with him, clear the air.

It had been two hours since they'd told the men about them and about the baby. He'd known telling the team about him and Emily would be difficult, and he probably should have expected that Derek, of all of them, would be the most angered. The younger man hadn't said two words to Hotch that weren't work related since then. They'd grown quite close, Morgan and Emily, over the last year and a half, and Hotch knew that after Morgan had been released from the hospital, it had been Emily who'd assumed the lion's share of taking care of him between the hospital release and his home recovery.

What he hadn't expected was the depth of Morgan's anger. The younger man kept quiet the entire walk to the SUV. Hotch waited until they were in the vehicle. "Want to get it off your chest?"

"What the hell were you thinking?" Morgan exploded, fist hitting the dash. "Do we need to take you to the nearest vet and get you neutered or something? This is _Emily! _Our Emily!"

"I'm well aware of that." Hotch said. He ignored the blatant insubordination of it all. It wasn't employee Morgan raging at him, but protective friend Derek "And its because it _is _Emily, that this even happened. This is not something that happened lightly, nor is it something I regret. The exact opposite."

"I didn't even know you two were together!"

"No one did." Hotch sighed, knowing the next part would be the tough part. "It wasn't planned, it wasn't intentional. And at the time, it wasn't something we intended repeating. No matter how much I wanted to."

"One night stand?" Morgan's face showed even more anger. "You screwed her, and damned the consequences? _Emily?"_

"It wasn't like that!" Hotch said, anger and passion rising faster than either man could have expected. "Not with her! Hell, if I'd had my way we would have told you all that very next morning!"

"So she doesn't want this?" Morgan asked. "You're pressuring her?"

"Morgan, I understand you are her friend, but this really isn't completely your business, is it? It's between Emily and myself. I'm happy about this. And she is, too. We know there will be problems. The BAU, the team, Strauss. Even Hayley, and Emily's mother. But we have no choice but to work this out, between us. All I'm asking is that you don't make it any more difficult for her." Hotch utilized all of his skills as a prosecutor to rein in his emotions. "She's terrified, right now. I don't want her upset unnecessarily. She respects your opinion, we both do. And she was apprehensive about telling _you _most of all. Be as pissed at me as you want. I can take it. But give her a break, and your understanding. She'll bare the brunt of this, and I need you to help me deflect some of the fallout. For her."

Morgan nodded. "But if you hurt her anymore, Hotch, boss or no boss, I'll deck you. Pound you into the ground."

"Agreed. And I won't fight back if you do. Now can we go? I want to get this case solved and get back to Virginia, as soon as possible. For all our sakes."

"Let's roll."


	11. Chapter 11

(_I am thinking of writing a short oneshot about Emily telling JJ and Garcia about the baby, but I don't know when I'll get the chance. The novel I am writing is taking off weally, weally well, and I'd hate to break stride on it--on a side note, you can find an excerpt at my homepage…. homepages. ius. edu/ bgoller/ bridgetgoller (without any spaces) under the works of fiction section—the two main characters are a criminal profiler and a criminal psychologist….)_

ACCIDENTS ELEVEN

They couldn't break the case. No matter how they tried, they just couldn't seem to find the piece that made the puzzle all fit. And it was wearing on all of them. Three days into the case and there was nothing. Hotch had even had JJ and Garcia flown out to join them.

Emily'd told them the first day about the baby. Hotch didn't know what was said, but whatever it was, apparently the two younger women had been _ok _with what was happening between Hotch and Emily. If the supervisor didn't know better, he'd think Garcia was actually pleased as punch by it all.

He knew the tech just liked to see her friends happy, so whatever Emily had told her, it was probably good.

It was the one good thing about this case.

Still, their revelation had changed the team, just as much as Elle's leaving, as Jason's, as Emily's arrival, as Dave's. As JJ's pregnancy. And they were all still feeling that. Poor Reid was completely at a loss with two pregnant women, and if Hotch admitted it, it was hilarious to see him.

Especially when they started talking babies. Reid would swallow and excuse himself quickly. Derek would just shake his head, at the women and at the genius. It was Derek who was probably driving Emily the most insane, and Hotch could easily see it. The agent hovered. Especially when out in the field. The Kentucky temperature had easily hit the late eighties, early nineties, and while Hotch had been careful _not _to partner up with her, the one time he'd sent her out with Morgan she'd come back looking ready to kill him.

The next day he sent her out with Dave instead. What he really wanted to do was assign her straight to the precinct, but with both JJ and Garcia there, there was no need for a third. Plus, he knew she'd object royally if he relegated her to a stay-behind position. Still, it didn't stop him from wanting to grab his phone and call her every fifteen minutes.

He'd sent Reid and Morgan south of Louisville following a lead, and he'd sent Emily and Dave north into the hills of Indiana. He'd chosen to stay in the city itself with the local FBI agent, Ted Mayors. He was a man about Hotch's own age, and of similar manner. Hotch had been immediately comfortable with him when he'd met him on a previous case six years ago, and the two had remained casual friends. He'd felt a resurgence of that comfort until the conversation took a turn he wasn't too happy with.

"What's it like?" Mayors asked.

"What's what like?" Hotch ran one thumb over the face of his cell phone, fighting the urge to call her, just to check. She'd woken pale and ill, and he'd heard her in the bathroom on the other side of his wall.

They'd not been together since the night they'd taken the test. Her choice, although she still had her room to herself. JJ and Garcia had opted to share a room, and Hotch knew they were assuming _he _was sharing with Emily. Only Dave and the two of them knew the truth.

Emily might have admitted to being with him—at least long enough to make the baby—but when it came down to sliding into an actual romantic relationship, she was proving mighty resistant.

He knew it all boiled down to her fear of loosing control. He'd long suspected she possessed slightly obsessive-compulsive tendencies, at least a very mild sort. It was in the way she organized her desk, her files, her home. He remembered his initial impressions of her home the one time she'd let him in. Neat, feminine but not overly so, classic yet modern, and so severely organized the place shouted—to him, at least—the pathological fear of losing control.

An unplanned pregnancy, especially _your _supervisor's baby, was enough to throw any woman into a tailspin. To have that supervisor suddenly making demands on you, was just another brick added to the wall you'd found yourself trapped against.

Still, she didn't pull away from his touch, and he took that as a good sign. He'd have her yet, one way or another, it was just a matter of time.

Mayors took the next exit before continuing. "Don't take this the wrong way, but a lot of us have been wondering."

"Wondering what?"

"Well, we don't have many female agents in our office. And none that look like yours, at least not more than one I can think of."

"Excuse me?" Hotch's tone had turned slightly lethal, and neither man missed it.

"All I'm saying, one team leader to another, is how do you prevent problems from developing? I mean, you have some _hot _women on your team, Hotch. Real hot. You have to be aware of it. You don't wear a ring, you've been divorced for a while. You got to have noticed, especially the brunette."

"What are you getting at?"

"So has anything ever happened?" Mayors asked. Hotch could read the man's sincere curiosity in his gaze. The profiler sensed it was something more.

"Yes." Hotch admitted. "It has. It's always a complicated situation."

"And has it worked out?" Mayors didn't ask _who. _Hotch found that telling in itself.

"You have feelings for this woman in your office?" Hotch asked, catching the subtleties behind the man's questions. The man wasn't overly expressive but Hotch knew his friend pretty well."Does she return them?"

"What? No. Of course not." The man's words were flat and they both knew he was lying.

"One of my agents is pregnant by another team member." Hotch admitted, though he'd normally not be so free with personal information—even with his friends. "It's made things a bit awkward with the rest of the team."

"Jareau? You're team seems to be pretty accepting, almost pamper her."

"No. Not JJ." Was all Hotch said. "It's a recent development. It's changed things."

"And how are you dealing with it as team leader?" Mayors asked.

"One hour at a time. She's independent, stubborn, and damned good at her job. I can't afford to change anyone's position in the team. We're too balanced as we are. Keeping her out of the field for the next seven months or so, will put a big press on the team. But the other part of me…"

"I understand. So two members of your team are pregnant?" Mayors asked, as they pulled the car to a stop outside the latest victims' home. They'd had two more attacks in as many days and it was growing more brutal. "Wow. I'd guess that doesn't happen in this line of work very often."

"Yes." Hotch said, "And it was completely unexpected, for all of us."

"So the agents involved, are they going to be sanctioned for breaking fraternization rules?" Mayors asked as the two suited men walked confidently up the stone sidewalk and ducked under the bright yellow crime tape stretched over the porch rails.

"No. How can I sanction myself?"


	12. Chapter 12

ACCIDENTS TWELVE

For the first time in her life, Emily got carsick. Really sick. So sick Dave had to pull the Bureau SUV off the side of the road. He held her hair while she lost every bit of her breakfast.

"You going to be ok?" The older profiler asked, one hand on her back as they stood by the edge of the very curvy road. Emily looked up and off to the distance, seeing the Louisville skyline outlined beautifully against the bright blue sky.

"Curves are horrible. _Hotch _is horrible." Emily declared, standing up. She took a bottle of water out of her bag and rinsed out her mouth. She didn't look toward the local agent who'd accompanied them.

"Is he?" Dave laughed, though the sound was completely sympathetic. The woman before him looked horrible. Her face was pale, her eyes huge and slightly teary. "I'm told this will pass."

"Oh, god. When?" Emily asked, bending over at the waist again. It was another ten minutes before they were back in the vehicle. The local agent was going around the curves of highway 150 exceedingly carefully.

Another twenty minutes and they were at their destination. The interview went well, but what they gained would help them little. Still, Emily was very reluctant to get back into the vehicle for the return trip.

But she survived, and nearly half an hour later she sank into the chair in front of the desk she and JJ had been relegated to sharing. The blonde in question pulled up her own chair and soon two female heads were pillowed on arms, as they each strove to stave off the nausea they were both feeling.

"I hate this." JJ said, keeping her eyes ruthlessly closed. "And you'll find out why over the next few weeks."

"I already hate this." Emily admitted. She'd not had a _non-_nauseated moment since she'd woken. "_Dave _said it will end."

"Yeah. In delivery." JJ snorted. "Sprite helps."

"Um. I'm too sick to get up and get it." Emily admitted, keeping her eyes shut. "Any suggestions?"

"Um. A, we suffer. B, we beg someone to help us, or C, we wait for the _men _to return to fetch for us."

"Or, D, none of the above, because your favorite goddess of the great has returned bearing presents for the little mommies." A piping voice said from behind them. They finally raised their heads to see Garcia and an armful of goodies. "I have crackers, lemon-lime soda, generic, I'm afraid. I also have chocolate and jellybeans."

DRREIDDRREIDDRREID

Reid entered the Louisville bullpen with his brain heavy with two things—the case and the changes within the team. Neither one made a whole lot of sense to the genius. But he'd figure it out, he usually always did. Part of his team was camped out by the back desk, sharing snacks. Reid wandered up and snatched the bag of jelly beans, popping a few in his mouth.

"Reid!" Emily snapped, fierce and fiery. "Put those down!"

"Uh, ok." The doctor said, suddenly nervous. Emily never glared at him like that. "What did I do?"

"You don't take food—especially candy—from pregnant women!" Garcia chided. "Now, go down and get two more bags of jelly beans and three—no four—cans of lemon-lime soda. As punishment!"

"Yes, ma'am." Reid gulped, breaking easily under the glare of the three women. "Right away!"

He rushed out of the room, leaving the evil trio behind him snorting in laughter. JJ giggled. "That was too easy."

"We have him terrified." Emily added.

"I can say one thing—seeing you two this sick makes me seriously think about doubling up on the birth control." Garcia said, picking off the last of the jellybeans. After all—she knew they had more jelly beans coming. "Are you feeling better yet?"

"Yes." Emily said.

"For now." JJ added.

"Well, I'll pray it lasts through dinner. Somebody mentioned a Caribbean restaurant as a possibility for dinner."

HOTCHEMILYHOTCHEMILYHOTCHEMILY

Reid nearly ran them over. Hotch, Morgan, Rossi, Mayors and the four other local agents stepped back just in time to avoid the collision. Hotch stared at his youngest member, who stood panting before them, arms laden with sodas and candies. "Reid, something I should know?"

"I didn't mean, too. Honest." The boy said, looking at his supervisor. "I touched Emily's jellybeans, Hotch."

"And what did Emily do when you touched her…jellybeans?" Hotch asked, severely.

"I thought she was going to kill me. I didn't know she liked jellybeans that badly."

"It's hormones, Reid." Rossi tried explaining, laughing at the utter fear on Reid's face. The kid was terrified of females, especially those on his own team.

"Huh?"

"Cravings, boy." Morgan added. "From the baby?"

"The baby? What baby?" Reid's eyes widened before they landed on that baby's daddy. "Oh yeah! Right. I forgot."

"So you thought to make it up to her by buying her more candy?" Hotch asked, nodding at the goodies in Reid's hands. Trying to hide his smile.

"Trying to appease the beast?" Rossi asked, smirking openly. "I don't think she needs all _that _sugar."

"Garcia said to! And I wasn't about to argue." Reid swallowed visibly. "Remember what Morgan said about women with guns? I think we should change that to women with pregnancies."

Morgan laughed openly then. "I'm going to tell them you said that."

"No, god, please no!"

Hotch took one bag of the jellybeans and one of the sodas. "Reid, I don't care how badly they threaten you, _don't _keep buying them candy. They're using you, horribly. And neither Emily nor JJ needs empty sugar right now."

"_You _tell them that, Hotch. I'm not going to. Emily scares me." Reid said, dumping the rest of the candy and soda on Morgan. "In fact, I think I am taking a walk."

Emily looked up when the crowd of men entered the bullpen. They'd been split into pairs doing interviews. She and Rossi had been the first to return and the older man had waited outside for the rest. Not Emily, she'd need cool air and cold soda. Hotch was in the lead, everyone waiting on his orders. Just like it always was. The man had a way of commanding attention wherever they went. It was one of the things about him that had always fascinated her, even when she didn't like him.

She wasn't even truly aware when that dislike had changed into tolerance. That tolerance had slid rapidly into platonic friendship after the New York case.

And then there was _that _night. Her hand dropped to cover the result of that. She'd asked herself plenty of times since that night why she hadn't pulled away from him. Why she hadn't laughed it off, chalking it up to the otherworldly atmosphere a carnival could induce. Instead she'd kissed him back. One kiss that led to these big changes. It was completely overwhelming.

Hotch dropped the candy in front of Emily and handed her the cold soda. "Emily, you frightened Reid."

"Hmm?" She grinned then, and his face immediately softened. "But it worked, didn't it?"

"Yes." He ran one eye over her. She was once again wearing that red tank. Why did she always wear it when he felt the most weak? God, he wanted to drag her off to the hotel and show her what that red did to him. and show her what that red did to him.

Maybe tonight she'd let him.


	13. Chapter 13

ACCIDENTS THIRTEEN

Emily was starving, turned on, and exhausted. In that order. They still hadn't caught the UNSUB, and it had gotten late.

The hunger would take care of itself very soon. Hotch suggested a dinner break, and Garcia had insisted on that Caribbean place. Emily hadn't protested—it sounded great. Mayors and the four local LEOs assigned to the case joined them, and Emily, JJ, and Garcia found themselves surrounded by nine men. Most men were by their very nature very competitive, especially when female attention was involved. So Emily and Garcia, especially, since they weren't so _obviously _taken, were practically suffocated by attentive males.

Emily found it a bit irritating. Even Derek was trying to draw her attention. And he kept shooting glances Hotch's way, as if gauging the other man's reaction. As if he sensed something wasn't quite _right _in their relationship. Damn him for being so perceptive.

Emily was flat out terrified. Hotch had said they'd work together on this, and she trusted him, and knew they had no choice. But she'd _never _wanted to be viewed as the sort of female who trapped a man. And for all intents and purposes that's exactly how she felt. She'd trapped him, even though he'd made the first move.

It had been a freaking one night stand. It shouldn't have had quite that of an effect on either of their lives. Yet look at them—she was in the position she'd always vowed never to find herself. She'd never wanted sex to enter her career. Yet that's exactly what it _had _done.

He'd get pats on the back and knowing laughs. She'd get snide remarks and pushy predators. And that was just from the men they worked with. Some of the women would be catty and bitchy and resent her, then rumors would fly saying that she got to where she was on her back instead of with her mind and hard work.

It scared her.

And his infinite patience irked her. She'd seen him watching her, especially when not working directly on the case. She'd seen him looking down her shirt, even. Saw the way his eyes had heated, when he stood close enough to touch her. But he didn't touch her.

She would have felt much better if he had. Reassured. Instead, she felt…confused, defenseless, and unsure. He'd said he'd wanted more, but how was she to know if it was just because of the results of that night or because he wanted more because of _her? _Emily guessed that was something she'd never know the answer to.

But she could feel the warmth of his body pressed against her side. Derek and the other BAU members had made sure she was crammed up against the supervisor, just assuming she'd want to sit next to him. Derek sat on her other side, equally as close. But it wasn't the dark-skinned man she wanted to rub up against like a damned cat in heat. Wasn't Derek's aftershave that kept tickling her senses.

No, it was all Hotch. And he pressed closer as the meal progressed. Emily ate only half of her order—which was still more than she normally ate. The place served _huge _portions. Derek shoved the rest of Emily's meal into a to-go box for her and she thanked him. Then she sat back against the booth and waited for everyone else to finish. Her eyes closed as she tuned out the conversation around her.

HOTCHEMILYHOTCHEMILYHOTCHEMILY

Hotch felt her body soften beside him. Felt her slide to one side. Felt her move slightly away from him in her sleep, until her head fell directly onto Morgan's shoulder. Poor guy already had JJ's head on his left shoulder, and with Emily on his right he looked comical—and stuck.

"A little help here, please?" Morgan said, as the team all laughed. "Note to self, make sure to not sit between both of them for the next little while. Hotch? Can you take her, please? I'd like to finish eating somehow."

"Poor Derek. The ladies just _love _you so much!" Garcia snickered from her place between Reid and Mayors. "And my poor babies, they're exhausted. Remind me to smack Will the next time I see him. As for my poor little Emily…well…I'll smack the man responsible later!"

She glared at Hotch covertly, her meaning unmistakable to the team. The local agents missed her inference.

Hotch carefully pulled Emily closer to his side, tucking her head on _his _shoulder where it belonged. Her breath was hitting the skin of his neck and he tried not to shiver. He could smell her and it made him long to lean down and _taste _her, as well.

But he kept his face as severe as he could, not wanting their relationship broadcast to Mayors four men. No matter what the outcome of his and Emily's personal relationship, when on a case—or with agents they were working on a case _with—_they both had to be strictly professional. For both their sakes. Having her sleeping on his shoulder was pushing it slightly, but since JJ had also fallen asleep, they could get by with it.

All he wanted to do was pull her against his chest, and stroke her hair while he held her. An open claiming, shouting to all that he was the man responsible for her condition.

"The first trimester of pregnancy is marked by exhaustion, mood swings, nausea, and frequent urination." Reid began. "The second, leg cramps, shortness of breath and even urinary tract infections."

"Don't start with the pregnancy stuff again, kid." Derek said. "Trust me, the rest of us do _not _want to hear it."

"Still, we should all know." Reid protested. "At least have an idea of what to expect. I mean, JJ hasn't really had mood swings. But Emily was really _mad _about the jelly beans today."

"Reid, I already told you, they were playing you." Hotch said, one hand draping behind her back without thought. When he realized, he mentally shrugged. It could be misinterpreted as him just getting comfortable. "And we do know about the different symptoms. And it might not be a good idea to keep reiterating them in _front _of Emily and JJ."

"You're probably right." The kid sighed.

"And Reid, it's not like their suddenly going to deliver the babies in the middle of the BAU. They'll each be off on maternity leave at minimum a week before their due dates." Rossi added, looking at Hotch for confirmation. "And that's what three months for JJ and at least seven for Emily."

"Yes." Hotch said. "No matter what the objections—they won't be working that close to delivery."

"See, kid. You can relax and stop eying them like they're going to explode." Derek snorted. "Now, I don't know about you guys, but JJ isn't exactly small potatoes right now, and her elbow's poking me in the ribs, so can we _please _wake them up and get back to the hotel?"

Everyone laughed. It wasn't ten minutes later that they were in their SUV's headed to the hotel. Hotch had let everyone else leave the table—with the exception of Morgan and JJ.

Morgan shook the blonde awake and Hotch attempted to wake Emily. She protested, like he'd learned she always did. The woman—the team insomniac—fought waking up like he never would have expected. And apparently pregnancy made it much much worse.

"Emily, sweetheart." Hotch said near her ear. He missed Morgan's surprised expression at how easily the endearment slipped out. "Come on, wake up."

Morgan watched for a moment, taking in the way his supervisor gripped her shoulder. JJ was awake next to him, and he knew the media liaison watched the show between the two profilers as well.

Emily's dark eyes opened and she hummed a little. "Hotch? What is it?"

"Come on, sweetheart. Let's get you back to the hotel."

"Hmm. I am _so _tired."

"I know." Morgan watched as Hotch's mouth tipped up at the corners, as the man's face took on an unknowingly loving expression. Hotch pushed the dark hair off Emily's brow, then moved back. Emily followed him willingly, her hand tucked tight into Hotch's. After she stood, she leaned against Hotch, eyes ready to drift shut at any moment. Hotch wrapped one arm around her waist and led her from the restaurant.

Morgan turned to the blonde beside him. "Ever think to see _Hotch _like that?"

JJ just shook her head. "Things, they are a'changin!"


	14. Chapter 14

ACCIDENTS FOURTEEN

Emily had no clue how she got back to her room after dinner. She vaguely remembered snuggling against Hotch in the restaurant—she'd know his scent everywhere, even in her sleep. But after that, she had no clue how she ended up stretched across her bed in her sleep clothes.

But she was, and that gave her a bit of thought. Then a shadow moved by her bed and she squeaked in a very un-Emily like manner.

"Hey, it's just me." Hotch's voice came through the darkness and she relaxed. "Just wanted to make sure I remembered to lock your door earlier."

"Hmm. How did I get back here?" She sat up, pushing the dark hair out of her eyes. One thing about bangs, when they grew out a little they became annoying. He'd left the light on for her, and she could see him dressed in the same FBI t-shirt and sweats he'd worn that first night. He looked good, very un-BAU-Hotch like, and she wanted to get him _out _of those sweats. The need was close to all-consuming.

"You walked. But you were pretty out of it. Morgan got a kick out of watching you nearly walk into a wall."

"Remind me to get back at him later." Emily stretched, the movement deliberate and seductive. She didn't miss the way he moved closer, the way his fists clenched. No, she wasn't the only one feeling it. "What time is it?"

"Only about ten. You fell asleep a few hours ago." Hotch said; he dropped down on the bed beside her. "Completely out."

"Weird."

"Hormones. JJ was asleep at the table, too." He smiled. "The two of you have got Reid very on edge, you know."

"It's funny. How he's studied every aspect of human behavior but something as natural as pregnancy, and he freaks completely." Emily leaned in, eyes drifting shut as she rested her head on his shoulder. "You smell good."

"Not as good as you." She felt his hand trail up her spine, felt his fingers move under the fall of hair to grip her neck. He had strong hands. She wanted to feel those hands.

He must have read her mind—profilers _were _mind readers, and he was one of the best. His free hand moved up to wrap around her waist. He whispered her name, his voice low and rough. Then his lips were against hers and she was getting exactly what she had wanted earlier.

EMILYHOTCHEMILYHOTCH

Hotch held her while they both caught their breath. Emily lay there for some moments just enjoying the feeling of his warmth against her side. "Sleep here tonight?"

"If you're comfortable with that."

"I am." And she was—she thought.

"You ready to talk?" His hand trailed down her side, now naked beneath his touch. The man definitely knew how to be effective in the bedroom. "Have you made any new decisions?"

"No." She sighed. "I mean, _no, _I've not come to any new decisions—but I am ready to talk."

"And?" She felt his body tense slightly and was hit by a small twinge of guilt for the boat she was about to rock.

"I never wanted to be one of _those people, _Hotch." Emily, for once, found herself tongue-tied.

"Excuse me?"

"One talked about, laughed about, _titillated _about."

"So you're worried about gossip?"

"Not gossip, repercussions." Emily admitted. "But that's not all. For the first time since coming to the BAU, I _don't _know how to act, what to do. Even at first, when it was very clear you—and Gideon—weren't exactly thrilled at my presence—"

"For which I was exceedingly wrong in thinking, by the way."

"Nice to know. But even then, I could easily form a plan of what to do, how to act, or not to act. And this—the baby, us, work—is something I _never _imagined happening. I feel like I'm repeating myself, I _know _we've talked about this before."

"But we've not resolved it." Hotch said; he turned to sit up. Emily followed, pulling the blanket tighter around her naked body. She wasn't _entirely _comfortable sitting naked with a man—even Hotch.

He apparently had no compunction of moving around in the nude. Made no move to cover his body. And it was a good body, Emily couldn't help but find it—distracting. That was part of her problem. Since that night in Salt Lake she'd barely been able to focus on anything but him. And look what that had gotten her. "No, we've not. And now we're going to bring a _baby _into this. What are people going to say? Work, our friends—my _mother? _How are we going to deal with the practicalities of it—I mean, this hasn't exactly been normal! Hell, Hotch, our very lives are anything _but _normal! This is insane, we're insane. I don't know if I can do this!"

She tried to suppress the bubble of panic building in her throat but she feared it was clearly written on her face.

"Hey!" He moved suddenly, grabbing her naked forearms and pulling her to face him more fully. "This is different, I know that. And it's bound to change things between us. But that doesn't mean it can't work between us. Where's this coming from?"

"I'm scared." She closed her eyes, lowered her head to his chest.

"Me, too, sweetheart."

"I can deal with being scared. I can." She told herself. Him, too.

"_We _can deal with it, together." Hotch said, the words low and soft against her forehead. "It won't be easy, but I'm willing to try. We'll get through the rest of it, just one step at a time. But I need to know what you want. Do you want this baby? Do you want to be with me? Do you want to just back off from this?"

"No."

"Emily, I need a little more clarification than that."

"No, I want the baby. I do. I can already see the baby. And I don't want to back off from this. Us." She opened her eyes and looked at him.

"But?"

"But where did this _us _come from?" Emily asked, suddenly, her fears becoming clearer. "Salt Lake City was just…was just. There. It happened, and I'm not sure why! _Still _not sure why. Because of New York? Because you were feeling guilty about Agent Joyner? Because it was a moment out of time? Because it had been a long time for both of us? Was it just hormones? I don't know, Hotch. And I hate that."

"So basically, you're confused about what's happened between the two of us?"

"I fully understand the mentality of just going forward and dealing with the hand we've been given. I've never done any differently. But what can we build on that? We weren't even friends, at least not close ones. We've worked together for nearly two years now and we know practically nothing about each other."

"We know each other."

"Not really. Discounting Salt Lake City and the hour we spent at a carnival—and the few times we've been alone in hotel rooms, where we seem to get inevitably distracted—have we ever even been alone in a non-case related fashion? Anything outside of the work environment—or the team—at all?" She flopped back onto the pillow and laid there for a moment, staring up at the ceiling. She turned to look at him, when he moved to stretch out beside her. He stayed on top of the covers. But he was still naked. Still distracting—even when she was churned up with anxiety over their situation. Damn him. Damn hormones.

"Come to think of it, no. Seems like every time we are alone together, one thing happens."

"And that came out of left field. I wasn't expecting it. And a part of me wonders if Salt Lake City, and us having sex, is all a part of some big dream. And any minute now I am going to wake up and realize its not real." She told him.

"I know." He raised a hand and ran it down her arm, his fingers light and hot against her skin. "I'd be lying if I told you it didn't shock the hell out of me, too. But now, weeks after that night, I know it's a good thing. And it is."

"But why? Why did it happen at all? You and me—there was no hint, no clue, no behavior, to indicate that you and I were even possible, let alone probable." She tried one last protest. But she knew it was a weak one. "And we study human behavior for a living—and we can't even accurately evaluate our own. My own. Is it no wonder I'm confused? Plus, add in the baby, and for the first time in longer than I can remember, I just absolutely do not know what to do. What I should do. What I want to do. What I can do. It just goes on and on. Repeating in my head."

"But that's not the root of it, is it?"

"No." She pulled the covers even tighter around her body in a defensive move.

"What is?"

"The question has been in the back of my mind…"

"Go on."

"Well." She paused, looked at him, almost afraid of what she was about to say. "If it hadn't been for the obvious repercussions of Salt Lake City, would we have had sex again? Or would we have just continued on the completely platonic route?"

"What are you asking?" His tone was slow, and she knew he knew what she was getting at.

"What I am saying is—if this baby didn't exist, would you be in this bed with _me? _Or was I just convenient, and now you feel like you really have no choice but to make the best of the situation?"

"Emily—"

"Would you, Hotch? If there was no baby, would you still want _me_?"


	15. Chapter 15

ACCIDENTS FIFTEEN

Hotch knew he was treading dangerous waters, as he lay looking at the woman beside him. "Yes."

"Would you? Honestly?"

"I watched you. Every damned day since Salt Lake City." Hotch told her, as earnestly as he could. "Dreamed about you every night."

She didn't speak, just lay against the pillows, looking at him. "I don't know if I can believe that."

"Give me time, I'll convince you. I always won my cases, you know. I can be pretty convincing." He knew it didn't show on his face—he'd had years of experience hiding how he felt—but he'd never been more afraid of anything in his personal life.

"What are the odds, though? People have built on and failed from much more than what we've got here. And I've never really been good at making relationships work long haul."

Hotch hated seeing the obvious doubts in her dark eyes; doubts both in him and herself. "Why?"

"Most men do not like a woman knowing how a man is feeling almost all the time." Her voice was soft, and Hotch wasn't lost to the hurt behind her words. "Combine that with the time we're away on cases , the nightmares, the calls in the middle of the night. I'm sure you know what I mean."

"Yes." He remembered Hayley's irritation when the phone would ring at three a.m. and JJ would be on the line. The way she'd always get so hostile during arguments, tell him he was _profiling _her, and he had. He knew he had. It was what he did. How he lived—how he existed. The same was probably true for Emily, too. "I do. But, sweetheart, we're both well aware of the ins and outs of this job—and the toll it can take on a relationship. And relationships have succeeded on far less."

"But a baby can't hold a relationship together, Hotch."

"And we've more than that, or at least, I'd like to think so. If not for Salt Lake City, would we have ever taken that next step—I don't know. I think so. We were certainly growing closer in the weeks before it happened. Am I sorry it happened—or that it has happened in this particular way? No." Hotch wanted to feel her against him. He pulled the blankets back and settled in as close to her as he could get. One hand moved to rest against her stomach. He felt her hesitate, then hers rose to cover his. He took it as a good sign. "I doubt it will be easy. I'm already having a difficult time _not _touching you when we're working. Not watching you. And I know the baby complicates things—but it's a reality, and one I'm not sorry about. It was a wake up call, was it not?"

"Excuse me?"

"If there hadn't been a baby, would you have ever wanted to repeat Salt Lake? Would _you _be with _me? _It's a legitimate question." He lost his train of thought, like he'd been doing for the last six weeks whenever she was near. He dropped a kiss on the smooth shoulder nearest him. Ran small kisses over her neck. He smiled when she shivered.

"I think so."

"Just think?" He smiled, then ran a tongue over her shoulder, than bit lightly. The woman was a distraction. A big one. A good one.

"It's hard for me to know. There was such a line between us, even six weeks ago, and now there's not exactly a line, is there?" She laughed, and he felt it against his skin. "_Why _did Salt Lake City even happen? Can you tell me that?"

"I think, when it comes down to it, there _was _a line between us. And there had to be. Then. And once we were in a situation where that line _could _be dropped—and maybe it was after the New York case, I don't really know—I do know that I needed someone then, and the only person I could see was you. The only one I wanted near me, was you." He pulled her even closer, dropped a kiss on her slightly parted mouth. He pulled back. "That can't be wrong, Emily. I refused to believe it was. _Refuse _to believe it is. We can do this, we can work at this. And I understand that it's confusing. I do. But I've thought of nothing else _since _Salt Lake City. Baby or no baby. I want to be with you. I'll do whatever I have to, to get that."

He hushed her then when she tried to respond, in the best way he knew how.

EMILYHOTCHEMILYHOTCHEMILYHOTCH

Hotch was the first one awake the next morning. He wasn't used to sleeping past six in the morning, and they'd actually fallen asleep earlier than he was used to. He lay there, replaying the conversation from the night before, before deciding he agreed with what he'd said. Would he have made the next move? Probably. Just not nearly so soon.

Salt Lake City was a good thing. It had precipitated actions he might otherwise have been reluctant to make. Reluctant for one reason—fear. He would have been too afraid of messing things up, of changing the status quo, that he would most likely not have acted for a long, long time. And time was exactly what would have been wasted. And if there was anything he'd learned from doing the kind of job he did, it was that there just never seemed to be enough time. At least, not time worth wasting. And speaking of time, it was time to wake a certain brunette for the long day ahead.

"Emily, sweetheart. Time to wake up." He whispered the words against her ear.

"No. Mmm. Sleeping." She rolled away from him. "Go away!"

"No. You need to wake up." His voice was low but firm. He heard her sigh before she flopped on her back. Then those dark eyes of hers flew open, widened, surprised and filled with trepidation. Hotch stepped back.

Emily jumped from the bed, grabbing the sheet and wrapping it around herself. Her dash to the bathroom took less than three seconds. Then the sound of retching filled the room. Hotch winced. It was the first time he'd seen her be so actively sick. He followed her into the bathroom, and helped pull the hair out of her face. "Anything I can do to help?"

"Not really." He'd never seen her so vulnerable. She was pale, shaking, wrapped in a cream-colored sheet. "I'll be fine in a minute."

"You sure?"

"Yes." She ran a hand over her mouth before looking up at him. "Can you give me a little bit? I'm going to take a shower."

"Yes. I'll go next door, get ready myself. " Hotch bent down, dropped a kiss on her forehead before helping her back to her feet. "I'll be right back. Leave the door unlocked?"

"Yes." She turned the water on in the shower behind her. "Twenty minutes."

"Twenty minutes."

EMILYHOTCHEMILYHOTCHEMILYHOTCH

Emily was ready in fifteen. Hotch had sounded pretty serious the night before, and she took that alone time to pick apart his words. She'd appreciated his honesty, and felt that it was time she was brutally honest with herself as well.

_Would _she have chosen Hotch had Salt Lake City never happened? Had she wanted Salt Lake to really happen? What were her motivations? She'd known what she was doing, knew the repercussions of sleeping with her boss. And she was well aware that she shared part of the responsibility for _all _the repercussions—at least after that very first time on the window seat.

If she admitted it to herself, she had been completely lost during that incident—protection had _never _entered her mind. The second and third times—that was just as equally her doing as his. Brutal honesty demanded she tell it like it was. A part of her—a big part of her—was glad she had the obvious excuse to pursue a relationship with him.

The baby took some of the pressure off. In a weird, _Emily-always-being-scared-of-being-able-to-keep-a-man's-interest-once-the-innernerd-escaped _conditioned response way to any relationship that could possibly be serious. It was time to stop being so damned scared. This was _Hotch! _ Hotch would never deliberately hurt someone else, especially a woman he cared about. And she knew he cared about her, it was in the looks he sent her way. He wasn't an overly demonstrative man, he probably never had been. In fact, he took reserve to the next level, even in some instances appearing cold.

But she knew the truth, Hotch felt deeply. And when it mattered to him, he approached whatever in the most determined way she'd ever seen anyone. _Because _it mattered.

And though no obvious sign had been present a month and a half ago—or even really _since _then, she had to take what he said at face value. And she owed it to him, to the baby, to _herself_ to try. And Emily always tried hard at everything she attempted. It was just a part of her make-up. When it mattered to her—she'd work herself ragged to achieve it.

And what more mattered to her than her baby and her future?

Nothing.

Hotch came through the door that connected their rooms and she met him with the first genuine smile she could remember giving him in days. "Good morning."

"Feeling ok?" He stopped right in front of her. His tie was tied exactly straight, his hair—still damp—combed precisely perfect. Emily suppressed the illogical urge to ruffle him up a bit.

"Never been better." And she meant it, too. Time for her to stop being so uncharacteristically wishy-washy. It wasn't like her at all—and she had one explanation. Hormones were a real bitch. She'd have to ask JJ about it, see if the younger woman had felt like a puny little weenie during her first trimester. "I'm hungry."

"Good." His brows rose, the only sign on his perfect-work-face that she'd confused him. She stepped closer. He smiled at her, just a small gesture, but one that softened his face considerably. "You smell good."

"Hmm. Do I taste good, too?" She took a bold step forward, the first move of any sort of initiation on her part in their strange relationship. One hand fisted around the lapel of his dark navy suit coat, the other slid behind his neck. Her fingers touched the damp hair at the back of his head. He met her halfway, and then she forgot everything but kissing _him. _Releasing all the pent-up emotions—the confusion, the fear, the hunger, the worry—that had existed between them.


	16. Chapter 16

ACCIDENTS SIXTEEN

Hotch was surprised, he'd admit that. But he didn't fight it. He dropped his hands to the small of her back and pulled her closer to him, until he could feel her entire front pressed up against his. He kissed her just as hungrily for a moment. Then a longer moment. He wanted nothing more than to walk her backwards to the edge of the bed and fall down onto it with her.

The knock on the opened door between their two rooms was all that stopped him. He pulled away from her, turning with a look of irritation to look at the man standing in the door frame. "Dave? Something you needed?"

"Yes. To solve this case and get back to Washington." The older man was laughing and made no attempt at hiding it. "You two care to join the rest of us, or should we come back in ten minutes?"

He motioned to the people standing in the room behind him. JJ, Morgan, Garcia, and even Reid were staring into the room at the couple. Hotch felt Emily drop her head to his chest, heard her small groan of embarrassment. He looked down at her, lips twitching when he saw nothing but humor in the dark eyes peeking up at him. He brushed one more kiss, this time just above her ear, before whispering, "You ok?"

She just nodded, then whispered her answer. "I'm ok. I've thought about what you said."

He tensed. They both ignored the people still staring at them curiously. "And?"

"I'm good with it. All of it." Her words were low and he strained to hear, not wanting to miss any of it. He was vaguely aware of Dave retreating and closing the adjoining door. "I can't guarantee I won't freak out now and then, but I want this."

Hotch released the breath he'd been holding along with the tension gripping his shoulders. "I'm glad. You had me worried."

"I know." She smiled, stepped back from him. "We should be going. They're all waiting—probably with their ears pressed against the door."

"Yes. I agree with Dave. I'm ready to head home. We've a lot we need to discuss." Hotch slipped his hand down her arm, catching her fingers in his. He didn't let go.

"We certainly do."

EMILYHOTCHEMILYHOTCHEMILYHOTCH

"Wow." JJ said from behind Emily, causing the older woman to spin around hurriedly. It was just the pair of them and Garcia, as well as one of Mayors' agents. The lone man looked up, watching the women curiously. "That was pretty steamy. So what happened after we left?"

"Nothing." Emily said, glancing toward the male agent. "Nothing special. Why?"

"Could have fooled me. You look like you're feeling better." JJ said. "Not sick this morning?"

"Sicker than a dog." Emily admitted. "But I _feel _a little better about things, not so damned confused and weenie-like."

"Hormones or man?" Garcia asked, handing Emily a bag of jelly beans. Emily accepted eagerly.

"Man."

"Oooh. Do tell." The tech said, "What was said?"

"Nothing much. Just a bit more 'how we are going to deal with everything' conversation. But I feel a little more stabilized."

"We'll talk more later." JJ said, then leaned in closer, so the man couldn't hear. "You two looked good together this morning. I haven't seen that much emotion on his face in a long, long time. Man was definitely into it."

"He wasn't the only one." Emily mumbled for JJ and Pen's ears only. "Damn Dave and the rest of you, too."

"Hormones heating things up?" JJ snickered.

"Oh, yes. And we had time, we really did!" Emily faked a pout, and a whine. "Now, we should really get to work."

"Yes, ma'am." JJ saluted, still snickering. Garcia was openly laughing.

They worked.

HOTCHEMILYHOTCHEMILYHOTCHEMILY

Hotch knew Morgan and Dave had been snickering about him for the past hour. He paid them no mind. So what if he had a tiny smudge of lipstick on his cheek? He'd wiped it off, a small smile touching his lips. _She'd _kissed _him. _She'd told him she was ok with what was between them.

It was a hell of a start, a good sign as far as he was concerned. It would just take them time to get to know each other much better. Then his fantasy would have a good shot at becoming a reality.

The rest of the day was a bit more productive, though they'd solved the case by no means. They still hadn't found the two women's bodies, though no one held hope that they were still alive. Too much blood had been identified at the scenes as the women's for that hope to exist.

Hotch and Rossi were the last one's to arrive at the station, having finished one last interview. It was nearing on eight o'clock, the team was tired, everyone was stressed, and Hotch knew of two women who definitely needed to eat and soon.

He called for a two hour break, and no one argued. Reid helped JJ from her chair, and Hotch moved ever so closer to Emily. He dropped a hand to her back, keeping the gesture as casual as he could. What he wanted to do was wrap his arms around her as tightly as he could and bury his head in the dark strands of hair she'd left free. He's reviewed the autopsy files for a three year old boy just a few hours earlier. Had stared down at a picture of a dark-eyed child, who'd been laughing and happy. The boy had been found in his sister's crib. Both ruthlessly dead.

Hotch ached inside, imagining those children as _his _children. The missing women as _his _woman. This case was becoming personal for him, in more ways then what was just occurring between him and Emily.

"Hotch?" Her hand rose to rest against his chest, her fingers splaying directly over his heart. She leaned against him slightly. His head _did _lower then, coming to rest against the side of hers. "You ok?"

"Kids get to me." He whispered the words, oblivious to those around them for just a bit.

"I know. Me, too." She slipped an arm behind his waist, hugged him freely and openly right there in the bullpen, while surrounded by their team and Mayors'. They both stepped back, just looked at each other. "Come on, I'm hungry. I want ice cream."

"Let me guess, chocolate?"

"Umm hmm. With chocolate chip cookie dough, too." She smiled at him and he smiled back. They moved, leading the way from the bullpen. His hand rested on her back, her shoulder tucked close to him, as they walked.

Derek Morgan watched their exchange, knew the root cause of Hotch's problem. He'd seen the pictures of the boy, too. And knew the kid greatly resembled Hotch's son. What surprised him was the ease with which Emily had comforted the team leader. How freely Hotch had sought her out _for _that comfort.

Maybe it hadn't been just an accident that landed the two in a relationship together.

Emily was ever-conscious of his heat pressed up against her in the booth of the steakhouse Reid had selected. It had been his turn to choose the restaurant. Emily was happy with the genius's selection. Hotch sat with one arm draped behind her, using the excuse that the booth was a bit crowded. And it was. Reid was jammed against her other side. Still, it was once again Hotch's body she was hyper-aware of.

But this time, there was nothing keeping her from touching. Her hand dropped beneath the table, falling exactly on his thigh. She squeezed gently. He squirmed slightly, though his face didn't show even a hint of reaction. She squeezed a bit harder, ran her hand up just a bit farther over the navy material of his pants. He looked at her then, eyes heating just for her alone to see. "Want dessert?"

"Sure do." She grinned at him, then, letting him know she wasn't _just _talking about ice cream. His lips quirked just a little bit.

"I'll see what I can do." His free hand covered hers, squeezing warningly, before returning to the tabletop and his dinner. Her hand tightened teasingly. She thought she'd done a good job of distracting him from his earlier angst. Maybe she'd be able to keep his mind off of it the case for at least the rest of the evening. He deserved a break every once in a while. Deserved someone caring enough about him to worry. Emily knew she could be that person.

"Do that." She ordered, a playful tone just evident beneath her words.

"I will." Hotch motioned for the waiter, while under the table his knee moved to bump hers. Deliberately.


	17. Chapter 17

ACCIDENTS SEVENTEEN

_(This one took a bit of a dark turn, because, well, you cannot see the rainbow without the rain—and this is Criminal Minds, so there had to be some nastiness. But don't worry—it's case related, of course…this should be finished with three more chapters. I am aiming for an even twenty. Enjoy—and Kavi, this one is dedicated to you!)_

He made no pretense of sleeping anywhere else. They'd worked two more hours, everyone pouring over files in the midst of the hotel lobby, trying to find that elusive connection. And they had. Maybe. Hotch knew it would have to wait until the morning to confirm. Near midnight he dismissed his team and everyone gathered files and stood.

Hotch pulled Emily up by the hand, tucking her close to his side as they carried their files and supplies up to their rooms. He bypassed the one he'd been sharing with Dave. He had no intention of sleeping anywhere but right next to her.

She didn't protest, just went about getting ready for bed, brushing her teeth, changing into soft shorts and tank. He hurriedly went next door and gathered his belongings, arranging them neatly in the hotel drawer right next to hers. He liked seeing them there, and if he had his way, whenever possible he'd repeat that action in each and every hotel they entered.

He finished and turned, seeing her in the frame of the bathroom doorway. She nodded at the dresser before speaking. "Making yourself at home?"

"I hope you don't mind." His words were innocuous, but a thin line of resolve ran beneath them. He knew the other profiler didn't miss them. "It'll be easier having my things in here instead of Dave's room."

"Yes, it will." She pulled back the blankets, slipping into the bed. Hotch tried to read her expression and her body language—a conditioned habit that he would never escape—looking for signs of nervousness. Instead all he saw was exhaustion. He hurriedly changed his own clothing, stripping down to just his boxer-briefs and undershirt. He slid in beside her. He fought the urgings of his body that told him to pull her closer and reaffirm how he felt for her.

She was tired, and it didn't take a senior profiler to see it. He could control himself for one night. She seemed to be of the same mind, releasing a soft sigh as she flipped on her side to face him. He actually felt her body softening as sleep overtook her.

It occurred to him then, _this _was the first night they'd actually _slept _together without having sex first. Different, for them, but it felt infinitely comfortable, infinitely right. It was a start. One hand rose to run through the dark hair resting on her pillow. How did she keep it so silky, so soft? He didn't know, but it was one of those things he looked forward to finding out.

He pulled her closer, tucking that dark head on his chest where it belonged, and arranging her lower body against his side, where he could feel her in the night. Where _she _belonged.

HOTCHEMILYHOTCHEMILY

The knock came just after three a.m. Hotch rolled over, careful not to disturb Emily. He slid from the bed quickly, wanting to answer the door before the knocking could wake her. Derek and Dave stood in the hall.

"Hotch, they found the bodies. Fished them out of a small tributary on the Indiana side of the river." Morgan said, quickly.

"Why didn't they call me?" Hotch rubbed a hand over his eyes briefly.

"Tried. Apparently your phone's not working." Derek said. "You really don't want to see what happened to them, Hotch."

"And neither do JJ or Emily." Dave said grimly. "In fact, I think you should send _them _back to Washington first thing in the morning."

"Why?" A feminine voice asked from behind Hotch.

Hotch moved slightly, letting the smaller profiler move to stand in front of him, where she could see her teammates. He didn't miss the way both Dave and Morgan ran an eye over her skimpy clothes and sleep-tousled hair. She looked good all rumpled. Distracting. He unconsciously reached out, pulled her back to his chest. His hand rested against her stomach possessively.

Dave looked at Morgan before beginning. "Both women were pregnant, Emily, early first semester. Probably just found out. And the UNSUB gutted them, with a kitchen knife."

Hotch reacted instinctively, pulling her flush against him. His fingers splayed wide over her stomach, a gesture of protection neither of the other two men missed. But only Hotch felt the shivers that ran through her.

"Anything else significant?" Emily asked, and Hotch was impressed with how calm her voice came out. But it shouldn't have surprised him, not this late in the game. Even when Cyrus had been kicking the shit out of her, her voice had been to the point. Almost insistent, as she told him—_them—_that she could take it. The woman was exceptionally good at compartmentalizing.

"Not that we know of." Dave looked at Hotch, question in his eyes. Hotch had a hard time reading the older man at most times, but this time Dave's thoughts were clear—he thought Hotch was crazy allowing Emily to stay on this case. "Should we wake JJ?"

"No. Let her sleep." Hotch decided, wanting to protect at least one member of his team. At least one. "We'll wake her and Garcia when we need them. Morgan, get Reid. Meet us at the field office."

"Sure thing, Boss."

Rossi didn't speak, just followed Hotch and Emily back into the hotel room. He looked everywhere but in Emily's direction.

Hotch pulled open the drawer, this time paying no attention to the small thrill seeing his clothes next to hers gave him. He pulled the pants and shirt she'd folded and placed neatly in the drawer out, and handed it to her, before pulling his own clothes free. She didn't need to be told to hurry. She closed the bathroom door behind her.

He pulled his undershirt over his head, replacing it with the clean one. He was dressed minutes before she emerged. Dave just waited patiently for them to hurry, but Hotch knew his eyes were cataloging everything about the pseudo-domestic scene. She sat down on the bed and slipped her feet into those boots she favored. He preferred her barefoot, smaller, more delicate. He knew why she wore those shoes, one of the few outward signs of a slight insecurity about being a female in a male-dominated profession.

Then they were hurrying down the hall toward the SUV. Hotch drove, needing to feel the wheel beneath his hands, to have at least that much control.

The bodies of the women would tell them so much. They were the only ones taken from the scenes. Both had been pregnant, and they'd been eviscerated. From what Dave and Derek had been told, the act had been brutal and deliberate—and done while the women were still alive, according to the medical examiner.

Hotch didn't want to think about what those poor women had went through, knowing they were going to die, their unborn child with them, knowing their _other _children and their husbands were already dead. They'd have had nothing to live for, except the baby within, and he knew they'd have fought. Fought hard.

But Emily didn't need to _see _the evidence of that. She was not going down in that morgue. She could protest all she wanted, but on this he was putting his foot down. It was bad enough _he'd_ have to see it.

He really wanted this bastard, and when he found him he'd see to it that the man never got anywhere near a pregnant woman again.

And in the meantime, he'd see to it that Emily—_and _JJ—didn't get anywhere near the son-of-a-bitch.


	18. Chapter 18

ACCIDENTS EIGHTEEN

The morgue was just as bad as Hotch had thought it would be. Thankfully, Emily hadn't wanted to go down there anymore than he—or Dave or Derek—wanted her to. She stayed up in the lab, talking with the techs about what trace had been found. Hotch suspected there wasn't much, but he was thankful that he had an excuse to keep her out of the morgue.

He didn't want her plagued by this nightmare, too. Bad enough she'd have to see the pictures.

The medical examiner started cataloging the injuries. "Mrs. Thompson here, age thirty-four, thirteen weeks pregnant, or there about. Can't be entirely sure, with the amount of damage done. She was in otherwise perfect health."

"Cause of death?" Hotch asked, eyes locked on the woman's long dark hair. It had been _her _son who'd reminded him of Jack. He knew he'd be seeing her in his dreams for a while to come.

"Exsanguination. Slowly." The man's words came out clinical, but his eyes were deadened. Hotch completely understood.

"Any other signs of trauma?" Dave asked, from beside Hotch.

"Raped. At least twice. Ligature marks on the wrists, most likely from sailing rope. Same for the other woman, Mrs. Kirk."

Hotch listened to the rest of the report silently. When the man was done Hotch nodded, still silent. He was going hunting.

EMILYHOTCHEMILYHOTCH

Emily wouldn't lie if asked. This new development made the case all the more personal for her. Her hand dropped to her stomach, to the little life they'd not actually confirmed as being in there. That would have to wait until they returned to Virginia. But Emily _knew _that it was true. And she was ok with it. Now. She knew they still had a few things to work out between them, but she had absolute confidence that they would work it out. Of course, she'd always had confidence in Hotch's ability to go after what he really wanted.

It heated her insides that he wanted to go after her. She'd reconciled herself after Salt Lake City that it was a one time fluke, and she'd been honestly ok with that. She was smart enough to know that people sought each other out at various intervals in their lives when they needed an emotional connection. She'd needed someone, and so had he. End of story.

Maybe she'd had a few dreams and fantasies _about _that night in the intervening weeks between then and now, but she also knew that was normal, as well.

She'd never expected that he'd ever want more. She wondered briefly if the events of two weeks ago had influenced his behaviors in any way. She'd thought of him that entire time in that compound. Clung to the faith and belief that _he'd _be doing everything he possibly could to get her and Reid out. Clung to the hope that he was listening when she'd spoken.

She had infinite trust in Hotch professionally. And she was developing that trust personally. But only time would tell how they'd manage to balance the two.

But he was _not _pulling her from this case. There would be cases in their life that got to one or the other—or both—of them worse than others. Cases that would touch home in inevitably horrific ways. It was part and parcel of being a BAU member.

Aaron Hotchner's latent chauvinistic tendencies—and she was far from blind to his faults—were _not _going to stand in the way of her doing her job. She made a vow right then and there to go on the way she intended to. He was not interfering with her job because he felt protective and possessive.

One thing she definitely would have to make clear to him.

But first, they had a case to solve.

EMILYHOTCHEMILYHOTCHEMILYHOTCH

Emily was drooping. Hotch wasn't blind to it, as they sat in the midst of the Louisville bullpen. He said nothing, just made sure she had plenty of juice at her elbow, and a bag of granola to munch on as they compared the women's schedules for that elusive connection.

"I have it!" She said, waving a sheaf of paper around triumphantly, nearly hitting Morgan in the head. Reid snickered. "Same clinic initially confirmed the pregnancies!"

"You sure?" Hotch asked, taking the paper from her—before she hurt someone else.

"Positive. September Twentieth, and Twenty-third, respectively." Emily said, jumping up, whipping her phone from her pocket. "I'll call Gar—"

Her eyes rolled back into her head, and she went down, just that quick.

And a roomful of men sprung into action.

Reid was stuck. He'd moved just in time, faster than anyone had ever seen the boy move, to keep her from hitting her head on the way down. He sat in the midst of the bullpen, holding her almost completely. "Hotch! Emily!"

"Somebody call a damned ambulance!" Hotch ordered, shouting over Reid's shouting. He was dimly aware of Rossi's hurried 911 call. "Emily, sweetheart, come on. Wake up! Come on! Sweetheart!"

Her eyes didn't open. He felt hurriedly for one of her wrists, reassured to find her pulse strong and steady. "Emily, dammit, Prentiss, don't do this! Wake up!"

He moved her off Reid's lap and on to his own, cradling her head against his chest. He dropped quick kisses against her forehead, as he continued to call her name.

"Where the hell's that ambulance?" Morgan demanded of no one in particular, vocally echoing Hotch's own questions. Morgan was on the floor then, holding one of her hands in his. "Dammit, Em, wake up, girl! Damned woman, don't do this!"

Emily moaned, a low sound that had her entire team moving forward to crowd her. Then her eyes popped open and she squealed, seeing four pairs of variously shaded brown eyes staring down at her with fear and concern buried in them all. "Hotch?"

"I'm here." His words were severe, but no one missed how choked he was. "What happened?"

"That's what I was about to ask you." Emily said, her hand rising to trace his mouth unconsciously. He grabbed her hand and placed a kiss in the center of her palm. Rossi, Morgan, Reid, and the local LEOs all back off, giving them some modicum of privacy. "I feel…odd."

"Odd? How?" He narrowed his eyes on her face. "Cramping?"

"God, no." He wasn't blind to the fear that entered her face then. "Just wooly. Light headed."

"We'll get you checked out. Make sure everything's in working order." He vowed. "How's your stomach, any nausea?"

"Little bit." She nodded, then lifted one hand to her head. "Hotch…"

"Yes, sweetheart?" Hotch asked against her hair.

"You don't think what happened in Colorado hurt the baby, do you?"

"I don't know. You probably just stood too quickly." He said, "Dancing around, nearly hitting Morgan in the head."

He didn't get a chance to say anything else as the EMTs rushed in. They immediately rushed to Emily's side. Hotch felt her tense, embarrassed at the attention. Just the same as she had in Colorado after the compound had exploded.

"She fainted." He said, bluntly. "She's pregnant, we think. Six weeks."

"Ok. Let's let her do the talking, though, ok?" The older EMT said. "Lightheadedness? Nausea?"

He checked her pupils, her pulse. Asked her what she'd eaten that day. Hotch waited impatiently. "She was beaten two weeks ago during a case. Kicked, hit, thrown into walls."

"What does your practitioner say?" The EMT straightened quickly at this news.

"Haven't seen him yet. We didn't know, then. Just took a test in the last few days." Emily admitted, her eyes wide with a fear that actually hurt Hotch's stomach.

"Well, you can just come for a little ride with us, and we'll get you checked out." The fatherly EMT patted her hand.

"Hotch?" She said, looking at him. He wrapped her hand in his.

"I'm coming, too." He turned to Morgan and Rossi, "Follow up on that clinic. I'll call."

The next two hours were the most agonizing ones Hotch could remember with the complete exception of the recent Colorado case. They took her blood, then pulled her behind a curtain and away from him, for the first exam. He didn't protest, knew their relationship was still a bit new to her and having a vaginal exam was something she'd view as extremely private—even from him.

He paced in the waiting room like the clichéd expectant father that he hoped he was. To distract himself, he called Morgan's cell, and when there was no answer, Rossi's. Followed by Reid's, and even JJ's.

Anyone to talk to while he waited. He'd almost have settled for a phone call from Strauss. Almost. He still hadn't decided how to tell her about this latest development.

Finally, finally, a nurse arrived and he turned toward her quickly. "Emily?"

"She's fine, and asking for you."

He followed the nurse to the back exam cubicle, where Emily waited. "Em?"

"I'm ok. The baby's ok, Hotch. And there _is _definitely a baby in there!" Her eyes were wide, soft, and an awestruck smile touched her lips. "We saved the image so you could see, too. Look, there's the heartbeat! We can't hear it yet, but we can see it."

"You're sure you're ok? Cyrus didn't do any permanent damage we missed in Colorado?" Hotch's main concern was for her, and he kept his eyes trained on her face until she nodded. The doctor also nodded, and Hotch finally felt the breath he'd been holding for the past two hours seep out.

Then he turned to the screen. "That's the baby?"

"That shadowed area right there." The doctor said. "I'm afraid you're not far enough along for us to see much detail. But that's definitely a heart beat. Congratulations, your baby is now about the size of a flea."

"A flea?" Hotch laughed at the strange comparison. "You're kidding."

"Ok, a very small flea. But a flea, none-the-less." The doctor grinned. "Emily, I'm going to write you a prescription for some vitamins and an extra iron supplement. And I strongly suggest you see your regular practitioner as soon as you return home. And no more standing suddenly, eat regular small meals, and take it easy. I won't lie to you. Pregnancies tend to get more difficult the older a woman is. But you're in perfect health, I wish the rest of my patients were as healthy, actually. Good luck, and congratulations once again, Mom. Dad."

The doctor left, and then it was just them. Emily slipped off the table, slipped her shoes back on—Hotch wondered idly why they were off—and then turned to him. "Hotch!"

Her words were mangled. A cross between a laugh, a sigh of relief, and a sob.

He held out his arms and then she was in them and he was holding her. She was saying something, and he pulled back slightly to better hear her. "The heartbeat! There really is a baby! Oh God! Hotch! A baby!"

He held her tighter, one hand buried in her hair. "Our baby, sweetheart. Our baby."

_(Slightly OOC? I'm not too sure…tell me what you all think….) _


	19. Chapter 19

ACCIDENTS NINETEEN

She insisted on going back to the precinct instead of the hotel. Hotch understood her reasoning, but he didn't have to like it. He'd have preferred she went back to the room and sleep for a bit. But she was excited, though she hadn't said anything.

It was in the dark eyes staring at the envelope clutched tightly in her hand. Inside was an extremely grainy photo, a positive pregnancy report, various pamphlets on healthy babies and healthy mothers, and prescriptions they'd had to stop and get filled. Nestled deep in _his _coat pocket were two bottles—prenatal vitamins and an additional iron supplement.

He laughed as he led her back into the building. She'd yet to look away from that manila envelope. "Sweetheart, the envelope isn't going to disappear."

"It seems alternate universe now." She admitted, looking at him finally as the cart began its ascent. "Less than two months after the New York case and here we are, with a baby. Doesn't seem possible, or real. And I'm afraid."

"Of?" He pushed the button for the elevator before turning to look at her fully. "Tell me."

"That I'll wake up. That it's a stupid dream." She said. "That _this _isn't real."

He hit the stop button to the elevator, thankful it was just the two of them. He pulled her into his arms; she didn't resist. "It is real. There's the proof, right there in that envelope. And right here in front of you."

"But you have to admit this isn't like either of us." Her doubts were clearly written on her face for him to see, and he wondered if he'd ever seen them quite that clearly as he did right then. "You are tied to your position so thoroughly, both of us highly value our careers, and this could ruin them. Yet I don't regret it. It all goes back to that needing a plan for my life, Hotch."

"We'll work on that plan together, and we can start tonight if you want." He told her. "We've confirmed what we already knew. All that's left is for us to take that next step forward."

"But what is that step?" She asked, asked the button to the fourth floor flashed. Hotch hit the release button and the elevator began moving again.

"Proving we can work together without our personal life affecting cases. Determining how we want our relationship to progress. Working out the details of what the pregnancy itself will mean to both of our lives and careers. Moving one of us in with the other." Hotch listed, firmly, as the elevator pulled to their floor.

"Wait. I'm not sure I'm ready for that. I've never lived with anyone." Emily said. "It'll be a big change for me. And I don't want to move, Hotch. I like my apartment."

"We don't have to decide right now. And if you want to stay in your place—it _is _bigger than my apartment. We can work out the details later. But Emily, we'll be together all day at work. I don't want our only time together to be when we're in various hotels or stuck in the BAU at Quantico, and we're forced to suppress our relationship. That's not fair to either one of us."

"Come stay with me. For a while. To see if it's what we want." She said suddenly. "No strings. We give it a time limit. Something in the ballpark of two months. Time for us to get to really know each other without the BAU or cases butting in. Would that work for you? With Jack?"

Hotch paused and thought for a moment. He knew deep down that her reluctance was due entirely to fear. He also knew that two months really wasn't that long enough for him. "It will work. He's still young enough to not understand what we'd be doing. Just Daddy lives with Emily now. Are you sure it's what _you _want?"

"Yes. Other than work, and _sex, _we really don't know each other that well. If we go into this with a finite time limit, I think we can both work together on this. But a time limit is definitely necessary."

Hotch agreed, but he was thinking of one other time limit—a nine month one. He only hoped he'd have Emily convinced they belonged completely together by _that _due date. "Ok, so I'll keep the lease on my place, and pack enough stuff for two months. Then we'll discuss how things are going between us. We'll work from there."

"Yes." Emily nodded, as he reached around her to open the heavy glass door to the fifth floor bullpen. "That sounds like a workable plan. One that we can both live with."

HOTCHEMILYHOTCHEMILYHOTCHEMILY

Morgan watched the couple walk in and he smiled in relief, seeing that Emily was looking much better than she had earlier. Hotch's face was also more relaxed than he'd seen it in a while, so he knew immediately things were fine with Emily _and _the baby. Still, the woman had scared him.

"Em. You are not allowed to do that to me again." He told her, scooping her close for a hug as gently as he could.

"Due noted." She said, that snarky little tone she used when she was ribbing him creeping in. "I have something to show you. Where's JJ and Pen?"

"Down in the cafeteria. JJ wanted jelly beans." He explained. Rossi and Reid moved closer, once they noticed the couple's return. "So what do you want to show us?"

"This." She pulled the photo from the envelope and then watched amused as first Morgan than Reid took turns turning it each and every way trying to identify just where the baby actually was. She had just finished pointing it out to them when the two blond team members wandered in.

Garcia reached her first, catching her in a deep hug. "You don't do that ever again. My nerves can't take it."

"I'll certainly try not to." Emily took the photograph from Rossi and passed it to the tech, hoping to distract her from the lecture. Her ploy worked. Garcia squealed.

"It's a little baby Wonderwoman/Superman!" She said, loudly, and drawing the attention of most of the room's occupants.

"Garcia! Shhh." Emily ordered. "The whole precinct doesn't need to hear!"

"Oh my God, can you just imagine how intense this kid is going to be?" Garcia's eyes widened, dramatically. "It'll come out able to give the doctor a full psychological profile."

Hotch laughed, flat-out laughed, at that. He sobered quickly, seeing the expressions written on the faces of the team. Even Emily was surprised. "Come on, we need to get back to work."

"We connected both women to the same clinic _and _the same pharmacy." Rossi said, one hand rising to unobtrusively slap Hotch on the back. "And congratulations, by the way."

"Thanks." Hotch said. "Which pharmacy?"

"One downtown. CVS on Portland Avenue." Reid said.

"Hotch? Isn't that the one we went to?" Emily asked, turning toward him with a puzzled look in her eyes.

Hotch pulled the prescription bottles from his suit pocket. "Yes."

"Ginkies." Garcia said. "That's not good."

"No, it's not." Hotch said. "Garcia, I want you to run the priors of all the employees of both the pharmacy and the clinic. Cross reference with the two families, see if there is any more overlap."

"So have we enough to make a general profile?" Rossi asked.

"I think so." Hotch said. He leaned back against the desk Emily was sitting on. It was against protocol, but after the afternoon they'd had, he had a hard time _not _touching her much more obviously. He leaned his shoulder against hers. She didn't move away. They waited for Mayors men and the local cops to gather around before Hotch began the profile. "This guy is disorganized, his crimes were probably not planned extensively."

"Full of rage." Emily added. "He chooses his victims because of something—real or imagined—that they've done while being visible to him."

"His victims were all Caucasian, so there's a pretty high percentage that tells us he's white, as well." Reid added, bouncing on the balls of his feet. "The women were the most similar. Tall, thirtyish women, both in the first trimester of pregnancy, both successful career _and _family women. Nothing in their profiles indicate marital discord, so these were happy families. Which could be why they were chosen."

"He killed the entire family. Not because he had to—the youngest child was two, not able to make a positive ID or anything—but because it was more expedient. He wanted the women, probably watched them for at least a week before acting on his rage." Morgan said.

Rossi swallowed his coffee before adding, "Someone has probably seen this guy around the houses, or in the neighborhoods, but he's unremarkable."

"So how do we find him?" One of Mayors' men asked. "If he's so unforgettable, how do we find him?"

"We've focused on his victims. The two women, Karen Mackensie and Nancy Ives , both were recent patients of the Knobs Prenatal Clinic and were patrons of the pharmacy on Portland Avenue. It doesn't sound like much, but that is the only two places they had in common in the appropriate time frame. _That _is where he most likely saw them. And gained access to their personal information—including home addresses." Hotch said, grimly. "So there's a good chance he's an employee with legitimate reason to see those personal records."

"So we'll check each employee?" The LEO asked. "And then what?"

"Question any who fit the profile. Then we'll take it from there." Hotch said. "We'll have a list for you by nine this evening."

"In the meantime?" Another LEO said.

"In the meantime, we continue going over every action the families might have made, on the chance that it's not an employee of those two businesses." Rossi said, giving a signal to dismiss the crowd.

The team continued to work almost tirelessly. They had the list well before nine, but they still wanted to cover all the angles. JJ and Emily, however, were the first to break. JJ was asleep in her chair the final time Hotch looked up. Emily was wavering beside him. "Em, take that couch over there. Rest. I'll wake you if we find anything."

She didn't protest, just stood and wavered toward the couch pushed against a concrete wall fifteen feet from the conference table they were all sharing. Morgan reached out a hand as she passed and helped guide her along the way. Then Dave took over, one arm behind her waist, supporting her slight weight the last six feet or so. Then she was down on the couch, and sound asleep. Hotch removed his suit coat and spread it over her, taking Dave's when it was handed to him. He balled it up and placed it beneath her head.

Morgan pulled a half-asleep JJ from her chair and led her to a neighboring couch, arranging the younger agent in a similar position to Emily.

"This changes things, doesn't it?" Reid asked from beside Hotch where he stood looking down at Emily. "Them."

"Yes." Hotch answered. "But it's good, isn't it? Reminds us that life isn't only the BAU, that there are reasons _why _we choose to do this."

"Reasons?" Reid asked.

"Yes. I do this job to protect those I love. Why do you do it?" Hotch turned toward the boy, curious to his answer.

"I don't know. I don't think I've ever really thought about it—I was groomed for this, Hotch. But I suppose I do it because someone has to. And I can." Reid shrugged. "Why do you think Emily does?"

"Probably a combination of those very things." Hotch said, "Come on, I want to check the list of doctors at that clinic one more time."

"Yes, sir."


	20. Chapter 20

ACCIDENTS TWENTY: THE END

It was Morgan who broke the case. He'd found Steven Holbrook's name on both women's pharmaceutical records. The pharmacy tech was the only person in common between the two women—at both the clinic and pharmacy.

Hotch and Morgan drove to the man's apartment near downtown to interview the man while Rossi, Reid, and Emily concentrated on his co-workers. It wasn't much, but Hotch knew it in his gut that this was the guy.

He'd have him.

Ten minutes later he was frustrated, angry, and impatient. Holbrook was nowhere to be found. "Let's head back to the pharmacy. See if he's there. He wasn't scheduled to work, but…"

EMILYHOTCHEMILYHOTCHEMILYHOTCH

Emily rubbed the back of her neck, her only outward sign of weariness. Rossi stood by her side, one eye on the woman they were attempting to interview, and another on the female colleague to his left. Poor thing was still tinted a little green.

He wondered why Emily's pregnancy already seemed cursed by more morning sickness than JJ's ever had.

"So Steven gets along well with most everyone?" Emily asked, for the third time. The pharmacy tech wasn't very helpful, was wary and resentful of the three FBI agents doing the interviews.

"That's what I said."

"And you don't remember these two women coming in here?" Rossi asked.

"No. But we get nearly a hundred pregnant women in here each day. The clinic always sends patients here."

Emily sighed, knowing that this, and probably the rest of the interviews, was going to take a long while.

EMILYHOTCHEMILYHOTCHEMILYHOTCH

Morgan and Hotch were in the parking lot when they saw him. Holbrook opened the door to the pharmacy and was inside in a matter of seconds. Hotch could see Emily and Rossi through the window.

"I don't know if he's armed." Hotch said, voice tense. "So we can't just go in there and take him down. Too many people at risk."

"Text." Morgan said, pulling his phone from his pocket. "I'll text Emily and get her out. She can signal Reid and Rossi to be ready."

Morgan and Hotch watched as she checked her phone, nodded to Rossi. Hotch hoped the other man got the message. Emily turned to step out of the building and Hotch's eyes met hers through the glass. She smiled almost unconsciously in his direction.

Steven Holbrook stepped between her and the door.

HOTCHEMILYHOTCHEMILYHOTCHEMILY

Emily's eyes jumped to the man in her path's face. She recognized him immediately from his photographs—and as the pharmacy tech who'd filled her prescription the day before. As she looked into his eyes she realized one thing—Holbrook was definitely their UNSUB. She felt, rather than saw, Rossi pulling his weapon at her side.

Her own hand was on the butt of her gun. Holbrook's eyes followed the movement. He looked at her balefully, not moving to approach her. Hotch and Morgan moved in behind him.

"Steven Holbrook?" Rossi said, and Emily felt him move a little closer to her. His protectiveness irritated her just a bit, but she focused on the man in front of her, not the one to her side. "We need to ask you a few questions regarding the recent murders of the Thompson family and the Kirk family."

"I had nothing to do with that." The man said, though his eyes told a different story. He'd yet to look away from Emily. "You were in here yesterday. With your boyfriend. And now you're back, to arrest me?"

Emily didn't answer him, just kept her weapon trained on him as Morgan moved in to cuff him. Then Morgan and Hotch were dragging him out of the pharmacy. Emily lowered her weapon and turned back to Rossi and Reid.

They had interviews to finish.

HOTCHEMILYHOTCHEMILYHOTCHEMILY

Hotch sat across the table from Holbrook. Morgan was at his left. Hotch opened the files containing the crime scene photos and began spreading them across the table. Holbrook barely even looked at the shots, until Hotch laid out those of the two women. Then the man exhibited signs of pride, arrogance, even a fascination.

"Pregnant women." Morgan started. "That's just wrong, man. What could you possibly have against pregnant women?"

"I somehow doubt you'd understand." Holbrook said, shooting a disparaging look toward Morgan. He then turned to Hotch. "But you, you're white bread. Probably believe in the white picket fence, two kids, and a dog, am I right? You already got a kid? Know you have one on the way. I saw you with her, yesterday. She's pretty. And pregnant."

Hotch didn't reply. Only he knew how his hands clenched under the table. "Why pregnant women?"

"Why not?" The man shrugged. "World already has too many kids. And then you get women like _them."_

"Them?" Morgan asked, taking charge of the interview with no protests from Hotch. As much as the supervisor wanted to rip Holbrook apart, he knew it wouldn't help their case at all. So he controlled himself. Barely. "You mean Mrs. Thompson and Mrs. Kirk."

"And your girl." He nodded to Hotch.

"Go on." Hotch said, his tone not betraying how he was feeling. He has vast experience in suppressing outward signs of his feelings, and this time would be no different. "What are they like?"

"Maybe," Morgan postulated, leading the man to where he wanted the conversation to go, "They should have stayed home? You think so, Steven?"

"You know so, Agent Morgan." Holbrook smirked, looked back at Hotch. "Doesn't it bother you, man? Here you go to work every day, bring home a paycheck, and yet in the end—there she is. Waiting to take everything you've worked for from you. For her and her kid. Or kids. And then—she tells you she's bringing another little shit into the world. And you're expected to pay for it. I know you know what I am saying, man. Know you've not even married the little bitch. Yet you still have to take care of her."

"So what are you saying?" Morgan asked, tone even, though Hotch had known the other agent long enough to recognize when he was disgusted.

"I'm saying that they're mercenary little bitches that use the whole pregnancy angle to rip a man off. And then once they have what they want, they take off and leave you with the kid."

"Why did you choose those two women?" Hotch asked.

"Because it was easy." Holbrook said. "And they already had a kid or two, why did they need more?"

The rest of the interview circled around the same theme and by the time it was over Hotch felt literally sick. He masked it by drinking a can of soda. Lemon-lime. He'd found it set on Emily's desk. She hadn't minded, just leaned against his side—a comforting presence. He knew she'd watched the interview from the observation window.

"Sick bastard?" She asked.

"No. Just didn't care." Hotch said. "Didn't like pregnant women. Probably because he supported his girlfriend while she was pregnant, then she abandoned him and the child within weeks of giving birth. Holbrook's mother now has the boy."

"So he had a grudge against his ex, and took it out on two entire families. I don't think I'll ever understand it." Emily's hand had dropped to unconsciously cover her stomach. Hotch lifted his free hand to blanket hers.

"Thankfully, people like Holbrook are rare. I wish there weren't any like him. I wish there was no need for our unit."

"I'm just glad there are people like us who can do this job." Emily countered. "It's never easy. And it's never perfect, is it? But we do it."

"We do it because it's who we are." Hotch said, feeling the honesty of those words to his core—words he'd spoken before, to another woman.

This one, he sensed, would understand them completely. In a way that other woman never had. "Come on, let's wrap this up. I want to get home. I have some packing to do."

She looked at him, a small smile touching her lips. "Just enough for two months."

"Two months." He agreed. He watched her for a little while, as she teased with Reid, as Morgan flirted harmlessly with her—all the while shooting teasing looks Hotch's way, watched as Rossi patted her on the back in a friendly manner. She really was a part of his team. An integral part.

She was fast becoming an integral part of _him. _He wondered what it would take to show her just how integral she was to him. The team soon had everything packed up, and he reached in front of her, taking the heavy filing box off the table before she could even think to. The rest of the team filed out, Garcia walking beside the waddling media liaison, leaving Hotch and Emily to follow.

He nodded to Mayors, where the other man stood beside the lone female agent on _his _team's desk. Hotch had a few suspicions about his friend and the pretty redhead. But it was up to Mayors to decide what he wanted to do about it. He smiled, turned back to Emily. He nudged her shoulder almost playfully. "You know, Agent Prentiss, two months is a good place to start. I'm looking forward to the challenge."

"So am I, sir. So am I."

THE END

_As of this point in my life, fanfiction updates will be slowing down considerably. Not only am I full time at the hotel, but I will possibly be adding another editing position (part time) to my workload. Writing of fanfiction, therefore, will not be a priority. I do fully intend to finish some of my incomplete work. Thank you all for reading, and please let me know your honest opinions._


End file.
